


The Emancipation of Arianne

by MarieAnne



Series: Emancipation of [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ASoIaF, AU, Canon Divergence - Robert's Rebellion, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, F/M, Half-Sibling Incest, Kingslanding, Light Smut, Pre - Robert's Rebellion, Rhaegar Targaryen Being an Asshole, Rhaegar Targaryen Being an Idiot, Robert's Rebellion, Targaryen Incest, War, Winterfell, gameofthrones - Freeform, rhaegar - Freeform, rhaegar targaryen being super hot daddy, rhaegartargaryen, rhaegarxoc, tourneyofharrenhal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 58,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26278945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarieAnne/pseuds/MarieAnne
Summary: The story of a bastard and a Prince and everyone in between. Now we follow Rhaegar and Arianne as they navigate life at court, Aerys' rule and a war against the Targaryen seat.All AU.The image does not belong to me.
Relationships: Ashara Dayne/Brandon Stark, Brandon Stark/Catelyn Tully Stark, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Rhaegar Targaryen/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Emancipation of [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909300
Comments: 22
Kudos: 24





	1. One

**Welcome**

** Kingslanding **

Arianne watched below her as the city that never slept, and its people went about their day. The Keep and its surrounding areas were being prepared for wedding celebrations, with flowers; that Rhaella had helped her pick out, and candles being placed any and everywhere. Tables were being set up as well in front of the Keep as Arianne insisted the food that was not served to guests be served to common people. Something that took much convincing from Rhaella. They finally agreed that if they were not to mingle with noblemen there would be no issue, so Arianne agreed to have tables set out for them at the gates of the Keep.

She was currently stood over the balcony, apple in hand, mesmerised by how well the people below her knew the roads of the city. They all had their own lives, worries, trials ... she couldn't fathom being ruled by Aerys with little to no money and wondered how unstable the city truly was. And she was also on the lookout for her families – the Stark's – arrival for the wedding which was to be held in a few days. Rhaegar had told her that their party had been spotted a few hours away during breakfast and she had been restless since.

"It's beautiful."

She knew that voice all too well and turned around in a flash, moving to hug Nymella as she neared her. "Hello, you," Arianne smiled following Nymella's gaze to the wedding dress that was spread over a chair.

"Do you think so?"

Nymella nodded, moving her kinky hair from her face in frustration. "It's so hot today!" She moved to the chair and picked the dress up, "was it worth the wait?"

"Absolutely," Arianne ran her hands through the fabric, it was soft and felt like water. There were beads of pearls going up the bodice of the dress, with a golden belt to give the ivory coloured dress colour. During the jewellery presentations, Ashara had gone out of her way to lend Arianne her mother's clasp, Rhaella had gifted a new necklace fashioned in true Targaryen colours and other pieces Arianne knew she wouldn't have the chance to wear.

_"Well, I was saving it for my wedding, but that won't be for a while," Ashara sighed, clipping the bracelet onto Arianne's wrist._

_Arianne subtly gazed at Ashara's stomach; she was very much so pregnant but refused to tell anyone who the father was. Saying the father already had enough on his plate, a child wouldn't be suitable. "Thank you Ashara, you don't have to."_

_Ashara shook her head, "it was collecting dust anyway. I want one piece of Dayne to be with you on your wedding day."_

Arianne wasn't sure how to tell her that the King was mad, and they weren't sisters, she firmly believed the story Rhaella had told Rhaegar, there was no possible way she could be Aerys and Serena's daughter. It was impossible. But she accepted the gift, thanking Ashara. Both of them had spent much more time with each other the past moon and preparing for a wedding was the best way to do so. From the colour of the candles in the Sept, to seating arrangements, Arianne was happiest with Rhaella, Nymella and Ashara planning her wedding.

"Well ... I came here for one thing and one thing only. I want to know everything about last night. Before your family comes please tell me, I know you won't have time for me then," Nymella pestered closing the balcony doors and sitting down on Arianne's bed.

She shrugged back at her excitable friend – the pair had grown closer now that Alyse had been excused from her rank as a companion. It left Penelope and Nymella as her handmaiden's and Alyse to return to doing whatever it was she did before her arrival ... not that Arianne cared of course. "We just ... talked?"

"Hmm yes, like you and Julian talked?"

Arianne threw a pillow Nymella's way. "I am not deflowered."

"As am I!" Nymella feigned a shocked expression. "No, but I want to know."

"Wanting to know is your issue, not mine."

Nymella huffed, knowing all too well that Arianne would crack and tell her every detail anyway. "Fine. Shall we get you ready to greet your family?"

"He played the harp and then wrote me a poem, and then he did something really weird, he licked-,"

"Every day, my envy for you _grows._ "

"My finger, you animal. That's why I said it was weird," Arianne scoffed, sending a knowing look to Nymella.

Nymella sighed, looking through the neatly folded dresses Penelope had set up according to colour in the trunk, she pulled a blue one out. "I haven't been touched by a man in ... twelve moons! Fuck." She helped Arianne out of her bed dress and into the new one. It was loose fitting and styled more to a design she'd expect someone from the Vale to sport, but it was simple and elegant. "My grandmother has this tactic, before a big event she looks her worst the days leading up to it so that people aren't expecting much from her. And then boom, she comes out looking average and people think she looks _beautiful_."

Arianne rolled her eyes, "you take after her then?"

"Hey! I think I look nice today!" Nymella exclaimed, touching her hair as she did so. She sat Arianne down on a chair and began brushing her hair out, bottom to top.

She shrugged back, "you're the one who said you haven't been touched in a year."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nymella asked, braiding her hair into two and twisting it to the top of her head.

"It means-," it was Arianne's turn to rummage through the trunk, she pulled out a sheer yellow dress. "You must wear it. Julian has been giving you the googly eyes for a while now."

"I will not have your seconds," Nymella said, undressing. She was never one to protest if it meant getting to wear something new.

"Fine, what about Oberyn?"

"No, he's insane and never tires."

"Jaime?"

"I couldn't get him away for long enough."

"Rhaegar told me his cousin is coming to the wedding, an Edward Lannister," Arianne said, tightening the dress behind Nymella with the strings it had.

"I've never met him before," Nymella began. "Let's see if he's cute first if he is will you have Rhaegar introduce me to him?"

"Yes darling, we'll make sure you get fucked don't worry," she snickered, patting her shoulder sympathetically. There was a loud knock at her door before Nymella could respond, Arianne knew by now that it was Jaime signalling for her to come out. She swung the door open, "what's wrong?"

"Your – the Starks are here, they're at the gates."

Arianne let out a squeak, almost forgetting to leave her room without her shoes. She scrambled to get the silk slippers on and then ran as fast as she could towards the gates of the Keep. Her footsteps were followed by Jaime's loud ones and Nymella's smaller ones. Jaime held onto his sword and breastplate as he and Nymella both skipped steps to catch up with her. He had never seen her run so fast and was shocked, to say the least, at her speed. He braced himself as they made their way past the Great Hall and into the courtyard towards the main gates, Once they had reached the gates, they both tried to catch their breaths subtly.

"What – what's wrong with her," Nymella huffed, placing her hands on her hips as she watched Arianne weave through the newly arrived Northern party.

Jaime watched as Nymella struggled to regain her breath, "just so you know. You could get me away if you wanted to. Plus, Eddie's ugly."

Nymella gave him a pointed look, unsure of what to make of his words so she chose to ignore them altogether. "Are you eavesdropping on your lady?"

He didn't know how to respond, "no, you're just really loud."

"Hmm." Nymella paused for a moment. "You are a sworn sword."

"Nobody cares."

"How many women have you slept with?" She moved closer to Jaime, not wanting their conversation to be overheard. They were merely on the outskirts of the muddle that was the arriving party, there were people unloading carriages of gifts, trunks, horses being given to stable boys, people being introduced – Nymella saw Rhaegar's white hair stick out among the grey clothing.

"One." _Cersei._

"Have you been with any whores recently?"

"No." Jaime had no intention of sleeping with Nymella but found that the role of Kingsguard was boring. He was allowed to flirt.

"If you infest me with a whore's illness, I will have you hurt."

"I just want to fuck for free Nymella, not marry you," Jaime said to her with a stiff smile.

Nymella sent one back, "how charming."

...

Arianne felt like she was searching the crowd of Northmen for eternity, she even found Rhaegar before she found her family.

"Arianne, oi!" It was Lyanna, her voice muffled over the chatter. Arianne was annoyed at the way that the party was invited in, there were no instructions, so everyone was doing what pleased them.

She was eventually enveloped into a hug by Lyanna, who nearly winded her in the process. Arianne let out a laugh, "I'm so happy to finally have you here." She had missed Lyanna greatly, being the one who always followed behind her like a lost puppy at Winterfell it felt foreign to find her own ... alone.

"Brandon's married; can you believe it?" Lyanna whispered to her, waving over Brandon, Ned and her father. "And Benjen's gone to the wall but he sends his best and so on."

"Your grace," Rickard said, bowing along with Ned and Brandon to Rhaegar. Lyanna had forgotten herself and thought it too late to courtesy now.

"My Lord Stark's, I'm happy our second meeting is a happy one," Rhaegar smiled, shaking Rickard's hand. He wasn't sure how to address Rickard, _thank you for fostering Arianne? Is she your daughter? Is my father crazy? Who knows and who cares!_ Rhaegar thought to himself, watching as Arianne hugged every last Stark.

"Hello married man," she laughed, ruffling Brandon's hair. "This one I saw only a moon ago, I didn't miss him much," Arianne said, hugging Ned, nonetheless.

She gave Rickard the biggest hug, trying her hardest not to cry, she would have looked silly. "Father," she sighed, Rickard laughed picking her up with ease into a bone-crushing hug. He had missed her. "It's okay, I know the King is mad and what he said wasn't true. I know I am your daughter." She had made sure no one would overhear her words.

Rickard sighed, putting her down and placing a kiss on her cheek, he knew it would be silly to respond in public and worse yet with the Prince present. "I cannot believe you are getting married. I should have never let you go to that Tourney," Rickard joked, though his words were his true feeling.

"No, then we would have never met each other!" Rhaegar joked, taking her hand in his. Arianne let out a coy smile as her siblings teased her. Once the large crowd of lords and ladies were guided to their rooms for the week, Rhaegar left Arianne to speak with her family. "I'll see you at dinner, call on me if you need anything." He kissed her forehead and walking away with Rickard.

"Well ..." Lyanna began, sending Arianne quizzical eyes.

"What?" Arianne asked, her cheeks turning red as she played with her hands nervously. There was an awkward silence, it seemed like everyone had a lot to say but no idea how to say it. "I hear Catelyn is with child, congratulations."

Brandon's ears perked, "thank you. She's coming, just slower and with Lysa and Robert."

"Hello," Lyanna said, moving the attention towards herself. "Can we talk about how I hate Robert and father refuses to change that matter?"

Ned rolled his eyes, "please no. Our sister-," there was a short silence, "is getting married to the _Prince_ of the Seven Kingdoms. Can we talk about that?" He wrapped his arm over her shoulder. "Those two are so conceited it's not even funny anymore. I listened to how much she disliked Robert for days, I refuse to do it again," he whispered to her, leading the way into the Keep.

"Is he going to follow us everywhere?" Brandon's voice from behind them asked.

Arianne turned around to Brandon indicating to Jaime, Nymella was standing next to him.

"Yes, he is my guard. Also, this is my dearest friend Nymella Toland of Dorne." Arianne smiled, mentioning for Nymella to take her hand. "Nymella, this is my brother Ned. Ned is a virgin."

"Arianne!"

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I've finished the chapter outlines and am so excited for you to read it as well, it's messy as hell. Don't forget to fav/follow/review if you did enjoy it. This fic is my baby, I've really been writing it since I've been 17!? I'm 21 now that's crazy :/ Anyway see you next time.
> 
> Love
> 
> xx
> 
> EDITED 06.SEP.2020


	2. Two

**The People's Prince**

**Kingslanding**

Rhaegar was awoken with his four-poster bed's curtains being drawn and the morning sunlight hitting his eyes. He groaned, covering his eyes and holding his hand to his head.

"Wake up! You're getting married ... again," it was Julian, shaking him until Rhaegar slapped his hand away. "Come now sunshine, everyone's here to get you dressed."

Rhaegar propped himself on his elbow, staring around the room. There were a few squires, maids and of course the newly arrived Otto Redwyne, Julian's distant cousin and Olenna's nephew, scattered around the room. "Just a little more."

"Oh no your grace, we've let you rest long enough," Otto sighed, taking the covers off of Rhaegar and pulling him up from the bed. "We'll be late to your wedding breakfast _and_ late to your time with the High Septon, haven't you upset him enough taking a second wife?"

Rhaegar gave him a pointed look, taking the warm towel from a maid who had held it out to him. "When did you get here?" He placed the warm towel over his face and wiped it, waking himself up.

"Late last night, I presume the banners at the gates indicate that everyone who is anyone has been invited?"

"Father wanted to gloat to them," Rhaegar responded. It was true, Aerys was for once in a mood that wasn't heinous, and he wanted to show it to the Kingdoms that his long lost daughter, or so he thought, had been found. Rhaegar was settled with his mother's explanation of the situation, there could be no such thing.

"Was Harrenhal a success?" Otto blurted, wanting to know one thing and one thing only. Had Rhaegar managed to sway the Lord's of Westeros for a peaceful overthrow of the Mad King?

Rhaegar shook his head, "now isn't the time to discuss such things. I'm getting married, let me be happy for one day. I'm marrying the woman I love, for once life has gone the way I wanted it to." Rhaegar smiled to himself as he pulled up the black trousers that were handed to him and tied them. A maid let out a giggle but quickly collected herself at his words, she ruffled his tunic up and waited until he had rid of his nightshirt. Rhaegar pulled on the tight tunic, the maid then took two silver dragon-shaped clips and placed them on his tunic. Once she had done that, she connected both with a golden chain, giving the illusion that the clips were holding his tunic up. Once she was done, she stepped aside so Julian could help him into the soft ivory coloured jacket that Rhaella had made to match Arianne's dress.

He stepped back, "honestly I'd fuck you too."

Rhaegar tutted as he was helped into his boots, his belt was tied around his waist and finally, his hair brushed out and braided with his ruby crown placed on last. A squire stepped up to him with another box, this time with jewellery. Rhaegar chose to keep it light, wearing only two rings on his pinkie and index finger.

"Are you ready?" Otto asked, standing up from the sofa he had made himself so comfortable on.

"Yes, shall we go to breakfast?" Rhaegar asked, waiting for the squire to tie his Targaryen cloak around his shoulders.

They left the room, Arthur and Jonothor both situated at the door following behind them as they made their way to the dining hall.

"Well hello their Prince of the people," Arthur mocked, indicating to Rhaegar's more fancy wear. Rhaegar patted Arthur's back, his hand hitting the golden armour lightly.

Rhaegar was tempted to slowly open the door to Arianne's room and get a peak, but Jaime gave him a disapproving look and he kept walking.

"Who's at breakfast?" Rhaegar asked both Julian and Otto, they shrugged in response.

"I do know that the Sene's and Princess Mathina Yosaf have arrived. Your father wants Viserys to go with her, Princess Mathina, back to Qarth and ward there. He said it'd be good for international relations," Otto said, rubbing his eyes.

"When did he say that?"

"Last night when I went to greet him, he seems to be in great spirits so that's a plus."

Rhaegar rolled his eyes, "yeah well, don't hold your breath."

...

What seemed like hours later, Arianne had finished dressing and was ready to meet Rhaegar at the Royal Sept.

She was awoken by Nymella, Lyanna and Penelope and they helped her bathe. Once she was done with her bath, Nymella washed her hair, brushed it out and braided it into two strands. After, she pulled the strands around into a large twist at the top of her head, letting a few strands fall stray at the sides and back of Arianne's head. She then placed a rope of some sort on her hair, tying it tightly between the two braids.

"Are you happy with it? I thought it'd look perfect for when you are crowned _Princess_."

Arianne reached up into her hair, she had never had it styled so elaborately and she reminded herself to ask Nymella to do it more. "Thank you Nymella," she smiled up at her friend and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

Lyanna watched from the bed, unsure of how to make herself useful, so she played with the jewellery box in front of her. There were jewels of all kinds inside of it, red, blue, bright yellow, she was even sure she saw a purple one. _Princess_. The word repeated in her mind. She couldn't believe a bastard, no longer considered her sister but rather foster sister, was to marry a Prince and her, a natural-born daughter of a Lord Paramount was to marry Robert, the whoring brute. The whoring brute who every night seemed to make a show of telling anyone and everyone that he had made the eight and they hadn't. Lyanna was sure he'd whored with more than eight women from Westeros, and probably fathered bastards.

Penelope came out from the secret room holding a cloak. "Lyanna would you like to help dress her?" She asked discreetly.

Lyanna nodded back, standing from the bed and helping Nymella unbutton the dress. It was an ivory colour, with a golden belt and pearled bodice. The dress looked something out of the airy-tale books that they used to read as little girls. Lyanna would tear the pages apart to get to the parts about Knights and Arianne would fight for her turn to read about the ladies who were swept from their feet by them.

When it was placed on Arianne, they all realised how deep cut it was. "What? Is it too much?" Arianne asked Lyanna.

"No, besides it is your wedding day," Lyanna smiled back as she buttoned the back of the dress.

"Exactly," Penelope said, helping Arianne clip together a chained cape. It went across her shoulders and shimmied as she moved. She then helped her to clip together the cloak, a half Targaryen three-headed dragon and the Dayne sigil of a shooting star with a sword. Both sigils had inverted colours to show her bastard status. Nymella then helped her put on earrings and her shoes. Lastly, Penelope threw the veil, that was similarly coloured to the dress, over Arianne's head and helped her into her silk slippers.

Lyanna looked down at her own dress, it was one of the many her father had made before Harrenhal. It was a light blue colour, fashioned in a southern way. Lifting it up she looked at her black boots, _I'm not underdressed, am I?_ She thought to herself, looking at how the other two of Arianne's companions had been dressed. "Arianne?" Lyanna called out, holding her hands behind her back.

Arianne turned around, she had been halfway to the door before Lyanna called her. Penelope gave her an annoyed look of 'we have to leave ... like yesterday ... get it out.' "Yeah, Lya?" Arianne asked her, adopting the nickname that Ned had given his sister years ago.

Lyanna was taken aback, she had rarely called her Lya. "May I borrow a dress? This one is a little ... I don't know. I'm not usually one to care about appearances." In all honesty, Lyanna wanted to feel what it'd be like to dress up for once and this would be the perfect chance to show her lords that she was more than a wild heart.

"Are you sure?" Nymella asked.

Arianne turned to Nymella and shook her head disapprovingly. "Of course," she lifted up her dress and made her way to her trunk. "What colour would you like?" Since had come to Kingslanding she had a few dresses commissioned, on Rhaegar's command of course.

In his own words, he was - _tired of seeing her in the same dresses over and over again_.

Lyanna stepped closer to the trunk, "blue?"

Arianne lifted her veil a little, "no," she told Lyanna bluntly. "I love you Lyanna but you have to venture out of your blue obsession. There _are_ other colours." She reached in for a dark red dress. "Here, this one will fit."

 _What's that supposed to mean?_ Lyanna thought to herself, taking off her current dress and putting on the one Arianne had given to her. She wanted to laugh, having to talk to someone who had their face fully covered. The dress fit perfectly and was cut just to Lyanna's liking. No extra arm material, it was one strapped and made her feel like Princess Elia. "Thank you," Lyannna smiled, admiring herself.

The bells of the Sept were rung, indicating the High Septon's sermon with Rhaegar and the court was almost finished. "Okay, we seriously have to go now," Nymella said, opening the door and ushering everyone out.

Arianne led the way down the steps of the Keep, past the gates and onto the main road, where a carriage was waiting for them. The four climbed in and waited in silence as they made their way to the Sept. Nymella noted how empty the Keep was and talked about the thousand people that were waiting at the Sept.

Arianne felt her stomach churn. She thought that after all this time of having to process the fact that she was getting married, to a Prince, was going to be crowned Princess, was not Rickard's daughter, did not know her true birth ... would be done by now. But it all came back to her and she wasn't sure how to react. She had never felt more nervous in her entire life, and as they neared the royal Sept, she felt her hands start to shake uncontrollably.

Did Nymella say ... _a thousand_ people? A thousand people. A thousand people to prove herself to. Well, she knew there was a few, but a thousand? She had only sent out three hundred ravens. Rhaegar knew _seven hundred_ more people? A part of her had wished that she had followed her father's instruction and stayed at Winterfell, she wondered what she'd be doing had she done so.

Sitting with Lilia, probably making something or rather – or yelling at Lyanna for making her jealous of the Tourney. _Lilia._ How sad she was that Lilia wouldn't be able to attend her wedding, the woman who had raised her. It seemed like Kingslanding had made her forget about Lilia, too worried about her own small matters.

"We're here," Nymella said, leaving the carriage first.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop! Our girlie is getting married! I am so sleepy, just wrote up until chapter 5. Whew ya'll are gonna be angry at me soon honey. 
> 
> Don't forget to leave a comment of what you thought - I know there isn't much to say on this chapter, it's pretty basic. And a kudos if you did like it!
> 
> EDITED


	3. Three

**Father**

**Kingslanding – The Royal Sept**

She had seen the room far too many times to be surprised now at its beauty. The decorations that had been placed sparingly around the Sept brought out its natural grandeur, with the seven status of the father, smith, warrior, mother, maiden, crone and strangers standing tall over those stood waiting for her entrance.

Aerys was waiting for her as well, just by the doors. He didn't say anything to her but merely waited for Rhaegar's blessing with the High Septon to end. Rhaella had explained that wedding ceremonies of the faith can last a while but would be quick once the bride arrived, so it would be Rhaegar who endured the most of it.

Arianne, who had a full view now of the crowd, could make some of them out. She noticed however that the tall and slim figure that would have stood next to Oberyn in the form of Elia was not there. Perhaps it was law. But Aerys had managed to have the marriage of Elia and Rhaegar annulled, on grounds that Elia was forced into the marriage at a young age. The Septon's were smart enough to know that asking questions only meant trouble, so they accepted the grounds and annulled the marriage.

The High Septon stopped talking, and there was small muttering and shuffling within the room. Nymella, Penelope and Lyanna entered the room first, all parting ways into their own family's positions in the crowd. Lyanna slid in next to her father, who looked longingly behind his shoulder.

"You look like a girl," Ned whispered to Lyanna.

"I _am_ a girl," Lyanna whispered back pinching his thigh in the process.

 _That should be me walking her down the aisle,_ Rickard thought to himself, turning back around to scold his children for drawing attention to themselves. "Are you finished acting like children?" Ned and Lyanna sent him apologetic looks and stood still.

Aerys took Arianne's hand into his, sending chills down her spine as he did so. His hand was cold, and his nails both scratched and repulsed her. Silence fell over the room as they walked down the middle of the two sides. Rhaegar tried his best to keep from turning, knowing he could only do so once they had reached him, but he knew from the tension in the room that Arianne was slowly making her way towards him.

"Now that's one way to spit in your face," Brandon muttered to his father, who in turn shushed him. He was referring to the cloak that Arianne was wearing, it had no sign of her Stark background – even if it was just by name.

He looked at the High Septon, and then to the Mother, hoping her statue would keep him grounded.

The High Septon shuffled, and Rhaegar assumed that meant that they had reached him. He turned, to find his father and Arianne stood behind him. She wore a veil, and a dress he knew she knew would excite him. Aerys passed her hand over to Rhaegar, who took it and led her up the two steps. Aerys moved over to the side and sat down next to a standing Rhaella, on a seat that had been brought for him.

Rhaegar pulled the veil from the bottom and flipped it over Arianne's head, revealing her nervous face. "You look beautiful."

She gave him a thankful look as the High Septon cleared his throat. "You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection."

Rhaegar unclipped her cloak, giving the specially made one she had previously worn and handed it to Julian, who was stood a few steps behind him. He then unclipped his own and placed it over her shoulders.

"Your grace, your grace, my lords and ladies. We now stand here in the sight of the gods and men to witness the union of man and wife. One flesh, one soul, now and forever." The High Septon instructed them to move their hands closer and proceeded to tie with a cloth from his open book, tying it loosely. "Let it be known that Prince Rhaegar of House Targaryen and Arianne Sand of House Stark are one heart, one flesh and one soul. Cursed be he who should seek to tear them asunder. In the sight of the seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity."

The High Septon then took a tiara that Otto had been holding out on a pillow and called Arianne closer. The tiara, which was similar in colour to Rhaegar's black one, had one big red ruby in the middle, and smaller ones scattered across it. It reminded Arianne of the necklace that Rhaella had gifted her. _The necklace!_ She had forgotten to put it on.

"I now pronounce you, Princess Arianne of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone. Officiated by your father, his grace, King Aerys Targaryen the second."

Aerys stood from his seat, took the tiara from the High Septon and placed it onto Arianne's head. "Welcome, daughter," he whispered, his smile eery.

The High Septon waited for Aerys to sit back down and then spoke some words from the book, but neither Arianne nor Rhaegar heard him, too fixated on each other to care for him.

"It suits you," Rhaegar whispered to her, making her go red. She had to admit, having a tiara on made her feel surprisingly ... different.

"Say the words," that brought them back down to life.

"Father, smith, warrior, mother, maiden, crone, strangers, I am his and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days."

"Father, smith, warrior, mother, maiden, crone, strangers, I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days."

The High Septon untied the cloth and placed it back into the book gently. "With this kiss, I pledge my love," Rhaegar spoke loudly, taking Arianne's face into his hands and kissing her. Arianne smiled, holding onto his arms as he did so.

There was applause and cheering from the crowd that had watched the ceremony so diligently. Julian patted Rhaegar on the back, "let's get piss drunk now, please. I'm begging someone wine, now."

Rhaegar laughed, taking Arianne's hand into his own and giving her another kiss. "Finally."

...

They had cut the wedding pigeon pie, though Arianne was far too happy and excited to stomach any of it, and now they were being presented gifts.

Arianne couldn't fathom what they were going to do with all the gifts that the seven leading families had sent them. Her old home, the North and the Stark's had gifted pelts and livestock – both of which Arianne knew was dearly sacrificed by the Stark's and other families. Brandon had regifted the crown of Queen of Love and Beauty, except now it had pearled flowers; something she assumed he had done whilst at Riverrun.

"As a vision of your marriage," Brandon smiled, placing the crown on the table.

Rhaegar picked it up, "how very thoughtful," he said, placing it on Arianne's lap. "I'm happy I went with my intuition, aren't you?" He smiled, remembering the Tourney of Harrenhal when he had placed the flower crown on her lap.

"Of course, I am," Arianne smiled back, taking his hand and kissing it. "Thank you, Brandon," Arianne said, nodding at him.

She was far too comfortable in her seat to leave and was glad when Brandon leant over the table and kissed her cheek. "Write to us if ever you want to come home, even if it is for a break." Arianne was sure Rhaegar had overheard for when she had turned slightly to face him, his jaw was clenched and his hand was at his lip.

Lyanna had gifted her a dog, of which Arianne knew she had found on the road, but it was adorable none the less.

"Vaella, that's a nice name," Rhaegar said, watching as the small dog was taken from Arianne's hands by Nymella and passed to a maid.

"It's a boy," Lyanna pointed out, stood in front of their dining table in her borrowed southern dress. "I was thinking Ric, after father."

Arianne gazed between the two, knowing that the name she chose would not just be a name for the dog but a sign of her identity – even if she thought that was a reach it was somewhat true to her. "How about mops?" Arianne smiled, "he has long hair anyway. He does sort of look a mop." She turned to the dog, who had shaggy and matter hair.

"Mops Stark, I like it."

"Mops Targaryen, he does live in Kingslanding after all and we would consider him somewhat our son," Rhaegar said, letting his pride get the best of him.

"You consider a dog ... your son?" Lyanna queered, giving him a quizzical look. Rhaegar moved in his seat in discomfort, unsure of how to respond.

"Come now don't put dear Mops in the middle of your spats," Otto said, nudging Lyanna away from the table and giving Rhaegar a pointed look. "It's a _dog._ "

Rhaegar clicked his tongue as Otto sat back down, "it's the principle of it."

"The principle is it's a _dog,_ " Otto repeated, watching as the next gift was presented.

The Mountain and the Vale, presented by House Arryn gifted materials and fabrics for clothes making, the Isles and River, the Riverland's, presented by Lysa and her father gifted fourteen boxes of pearls. The Rock and it's House Lannister presented by Cersei and her cousins Edwina and Edward Lannister gave boxes of diamonds, Arianne found it hard to find comfort in the gifts - especially when they were excessive. She supposed the crown could sell them or barter with them, still, they were excessive.

Arianne gave Nymella an approving nod when the blonde Edward Lannister walked away. Nymella shook her head in disapproval and Arianne gave her a look that said _beggars can't be choosers._

The Stormlands, gifted by both Stannis and Robert, gifted armour and sword making materials, something that pleased Rhaegar greatly. Arianne didn't know if it was iron or metal, she just knew it made swords and made Rhaegar smile. The Reach and House Tyrell presented carts of grain and a companion for Arianne.

"Might I present my niece, Mimi Tyrell, she is Julian's sister. Though I struggle to see both intellect and physical resemblances," Olenna smiled, placing her hand on the shy girls back as she pushed her forward. "We hope her to be a companion and confidant for you, Princess Arianne."

"Charming," Julian whispered from next to Arianne.

Arianne sent Olenna a short smile, unsure of why she would gift her a _person_. "Thank you Olenna, I'm sure we will spend many good times together. I can't wait to be properly acquainted."

Ashara had cut in before Oberyn could present his gift, pushing past the Prince with a box in her hand. "From Arthur and me," Ashara said, waiting for Arianne to open the box. Arianne pushed the delicate box open to find the butt of a sword inside. "It belonged to a great Dayne Knight," Ashara smiled, taking the tool in her small hand and passing it to Arianne. "I know your sons will inherit the Dayne swordsmanship." She offended Rhaegar, whether she knew it or not. Though he could not deny the Dayne's, particularly Arthur, were skilled swordsmen. Rhaegar looked at it, it seemed large in Arianne's hand but when she passed it to him he saw that it had a good grip. It had a purple jewel at the centre of it, with stars surrounding it in the form of white diamonds. Rhaegar knew it meant a lot to the Dayne's and that Ashara should have kept it to herself, but seeing as Arthur would never wield it, Rhaegar could see why she had given it away. Perhaps she did want the next Targaryen King after him to represent House Dayne in one form or another.

Arianne felt guilty, she had convinced herself she was not of House Dayne but here she was accepting a treasured gift. "Thank you Ashara, it's beautiful. I can't wait to see it in action."

Dorne and House Martell were next, gifting the newly married couple wine. Oberyn motioning to his glass of wine, "our last _free_ ten barrels of wine, that should see you through until next week whereby we will discuss how much you will pay us."

"Oberyn you are too good to us," Rhaegar said, raising his glass to the Prince.

"I know, it's a weakness of mine. You have yourself a good time, I'm leaving now," Oberyn smiled.

"Where are you going?" Arianne asked, waving Oberyn back to their table.

"Home. Dorne. I'm taking Merida with me as well," that last part came out as a whisper. "She came with Lysa and Catelyn Tully, dressed as a maid. Can you believe it? I cannot fault her; I am to blame for her pregnancy as well. It does take two to fuck. She found me I guess."

Arianne frowned and from the corner of her eye, noticed Arthur whispering something to Rhaegar. Rhaegar's face turned sour, but he nodded, nonetheless. His mood turned irritable from then on, and Arianne, unsure of how to address him, ignored it.

After a while, three people Arianne could not name stepped forward – each holding glittering boxes in their hands.

Rhaegar shot up from his seat in interest, "Arianne, these are the Sene's – Lady Milan, Lord Sagar and Seer Vesta. They are our friends from the Free Cities and their cousin Princess Mathina Yosaf is to take my younger brother Viserys as a ward."

Arianne stood up as well, bowing to those in front of her. "A pleasure."

"No, the pleasure is all ours," the woman stepped forward. She placed her box in front of Arianne. "From the city of Qarth in Essos and our family."

"Mathina sends her congratulations," the taller bald man said. "She couldn't leave, her father is ailing, and she is to become Queen of Silk soon."

Rhaegar nodded in understanding, "I'm just happy you're here Vesta, we have a lot to discuss."

Arianne was too caught in their outfits to care for what Rhaegar meant, the girl, Milan, wore a bright pink dress that was cut in an interesting manner and had a large golden belt, her shoes were bright yellow and wrapped around her feet. Vesta, the _seer_ as Rhaegar had described him as wore a black jacket with golden trousers and his brother, Sagar, wore a military-looking jacket with dark trousers and laced boots.

She looked to Rhaegar, who thanked the two brothers when they put their own boxes down and followed his steps as he opened a box. Inside were varying jewels Arianne had never see the colours of, she looked over to Rhaegar's box – gold in nuggets. Rhaegar pushed for her to open the last box, it was a flower.

"Fertility flower, as a good omen for your new marriage," Sagar smiled, picking the flower up from the box and handing it to Arianne.

Rhaegar laughed, touching her stomach lightly. "We can't take too many chances."

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDITED 6 SEP 2020.
> 
> I realised that I put in Ashara gifting her their mother's clasp twice opppppsies.


	4. Four

**No Goodbyes**

**Kingslanding**

Elia sighed as Rhaenys squirmed in her hands. She had not attended the wedding of Rhaegar and Arianne as she was too busy making sure that the children and their belongings were waiting for the Dornish envoy by the waters that led to Dorne. She had been left by the maids not too long ago, with a sleeping Aegon on the floor and in a comfortable basket and two Dornish guards that would escort her home.

"It's too noisy," Rhaenys cried, she had been restless since the morning and was upset she hadn't seen her father in a long time. "I want papa!"

"Papa is busy darling, soon," Elia responded, unsure of what else to tell her. Elia huffed, looking up to the sky and trying to ignore the sound of loud music, laughter and chattering that came from the Keep. Not too long ago she was the blushing bride that caused those sounds, but she had to forget about that now. Rhaegar had his fantasy of a prophecy ingrained in his head, and Elia refused to envy them. She refused to be apart of them, and she refused to allow her children to get mixed up in them. She'd be better off in Dorne with her brother Oberyn, Ashara and her sister Arianne Martell – someone she missed dearly. Besides, she missed her brother, Prince Doran, greatly as well - and she was sure he was licking his wounds after Harrenhal. There was much to sort out in Dorne.

A loud clanking sound neared them, and Elia snapped her head sideways. It was Arthur, running towards her – Ashara, Oberyn and Merida Whent not too far behind him. "Hi," Arthur smiled, taking Elia and Rhaenys in his arms, "Sorry we managed to just slip away."

"It's okay, the boat hasn't arrived yet," Elia smiled, handing Rhaenys to Ashara, who screamed in resistance. "Rhaenys darling stop it now," Elia said, patting her back soothingly.

"I told you, I want papa!" Rhaenys shouted out.

Oberyn tutted, taking Rhaenys from Ashara. "You call yourself a soon to be mother," he said indicating to her growing stomach, Ashara rolled her eyes in response. "Come to uncle Oberyn my pretty snake, what's upsetting you? Would you like to play with my knife?" Rhaenys' eyes lit up and she snatched the gold covered knife from Oberyn's hands, waving it around and making _swish_ sounds.

Elia laughed at their interaction, knowing all too well Rhaenys was about to become Oberyn's favourite pass time in Dorne. "Come with us," she said to Arthur, running her hands through his hair.

"I am a Kingsguard," Arthur said, "you know I can't."

"Leave them to burn it alone Arthur, you know it's all going to go to shit soon," Elia sighed, taking his hand in hers.

"Rhaegar is my closest friend, I have to be here with him. I promise you, we'll meet again soon," Arthur responded. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't, they both knew the punishment for abandoning the Kingsguard was certain execution. "I should be the one convincing you to stay."

"I love Rhaegar and I wish him nothing but the best, but he'll kill our children if they stay there. It's not me I care about. They are protected in Dorne," Elia said, looking down to Aegon. He was oddly a peaceful baby.

"We'll miss them and you," Arthur said kissing her forehead.

"A sister for a sister," Ashara piped up, pushing past Elia and hugging her brother.

Elia scoffed, "hey, you can't interject lovers."

"Stinky," Ashara responded in a joking manner. She mentioned for the nearing boat, "I just want one last goodbye before I leave. Take care of yourself, Ser Arthur Dayne."

"I will, you stay with them as long as you need," Arthur whispered, hugging his sister tightly. "And take care of Starfall, I know our brother tries but he needs you ... eventually. Or find him a wife." 

"Hmm," Ashara sighed, kissing his cheek. "Take care of our sister as well. I fear the King will not be at peace for long." She moved away to give Elia and Arthur some time together, picking up Aegon in his basket. "Come Oberyn."

"Bye lover boy," Oberyn called out, waving his free arm, signalling for the boat. It stopped a short way away from the rocky land and two figures jumped out, pushing it on the rocks to make it easier for its new passengers to climb in.

"Ta ta lover boy!" Rhaenys called after him, giggling as Oberyn pinched her. She still had her talent of copying things she knew she was not meant to. "Let's go to papa's secret pond!" Rhaenys cried out.

"She's never going to let it go," Elia tutted, looking after her restless daughter. 

Arthur laughed after her, watching as Oberyn and Merida forced the screaming child onto the boat. He turned back around to Elia, "I will miss you."

Elia pulled him for a short kiss, placing a pendant, that she had kept in her dress pocket, around his neck as she did. "Until we meet again my knight." She hugged him one last time and clambered onto the boat. The Dornishmen who had brought the boat pushed it back into the water and jumped back on. Elia turned from her seat, making out Arthur's shape in the darkening night. 

Arthur tucked the pendant under his shirt and waved. The boat floating away into the darkness, with Rhaenys' cries for her father leaving echo's behind. 

He made his way back to the wedding party, slowly at that, the day had tired him. Watching his sister, the one he had always known existed, as she was walked down the aisle by the Mad King. In a sense, he _was_ her father. But it was sad still. His mother wasn't there to watch and that hurt him. And now Ashara was leaving him all alone, to build some sort of brotherly relationship with Arianne and start her own family, albeit alone. Arthur laughed to himself, _who could the father of her child be?_

There was a rustling from his side as Arthur made his way back through the private gates, Arthur placed his hand at his sword. "Who goes!?"

A woman stumbled from a bush, she had been hiding and held her hands up. "Lady Nymella?" Arthur queered, squinting his eyes.

"No?" Nymella whispered back, there was a chuckle from behind her. "Shut up!"

"Ser Jaime?" Arthur called out, recognising his golden hair amid the bushes.

"Fuck no," a tall figure stood from the behind Nymella and hugged her from behind. "His much more attractive cousin, Edward. It's a pleasure to meet you but now you have to piss off. We're busy," Edward said, shooing Arthur with his hand.

Nymella slapped it down, watching Arthur shake his head and disappear back into the Keep. "He's a Kingsguard! He is _Arthur Dayne._ "

"And I am _exceptionally_ _horny_!" exclaimed back to her, pulling her into a kiss. "Come back to me Nymella" Edward sighed, throwing himself back into the bushes and waiting with outstretched arms for Nymella.

 _Just once,_ Nymella thought to herself, stepping back into the privacy that was the bushes.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am too excited, I'm posting all of them up until chapter 6 today. And then I will leave it for a week hehe. Or should I upload it slowly throughout the week? NOPE, I'll do it all in one go. I have so much energy right now it's ridiculous. Let me know what you think is gonna happen in the next chapter :P
> 
> Love xx
> 
> EDITED
> 
> 06 SEP 2020


	5. Five

**Happy**

**Kingslanding**

The sky had turned dark, but the Keep and its surrounding city had no intention of sleeping anytime soon. Aerys had retired early, both tired and paranoid. He told Arianne that he was not approving of her charity to the common people and that their grain was special. Arianne did not mind though, her and Rhaella had planned far too long for her to change the promises that she had made via messengers to the common people. They were promised food and wine, they would receive it. Besides, she was sure many of them were going hungry and what would really happen to the leftover food?

Aerys had made sure to remind Rhaegar and Arianne, however, that he would be visiting them in their chambers come time to consummate their marriage. "You are to send for a servant," he said before shuffling off. Arianne couldn't help but remember Rhaegar telling her of Aerys sitting in and watching his wedding night with Elia as well. She decided the best thing to do was get as drunk as possible.

Rhaella had also retired early, congratulating the young couple by kissing them both on the forehead. "I'm very tired, I hope you enjoyed your day though." Her behaviour had been very odd recently. Interacting well with Arianne as they planned for the wedding but during the wedding feast, she had avoided most contact and kept to herself.

"Thank you, mother it was beautiful," Rhaegar smiled, placing one hand over Arianne's shoulder.

Arianne stood from her seat and hugged Rhaella, "yes thank you. You have been far too kind to me."

Throughout the long night, many people came to sit by both Rhaegar and Arianne, denying the two any time to have a private conversation. Lyanna was first to come to Arianne, complaining of Robert.

"I'm going to run away. I can't take his whoring and his drunkenness," Lyanna proclaimed, looking out into the crowd and watching as Robert groped a woman. "He talks of making the eight like that is some sort of achievement. I can't believe _he_ is to be Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. I can't believe _he_ is who father has chosen for me. I refuse."

"Oh Lyanna, don't be ridiculous!" Arianne said, rolling her eyes, the wine reaching her head very quickly. "Robert is a handsome man and I'm sure has good nature. Besides perhaps whoring will keep him from your bed ... if you hate him so much."

Lyanna sent her a scowl, "it's easy for you to say, your life just fell into place. And thank you for your advice, I'll try to remember it when I'm in Storms End, alone, in a cold castle, with that." Lyanna turned once more to look at the laughing Robert.

"Find a lover then," Arianne snapped back. This was her wedding day and somehow Lyanna had managed to make it about herself. Lyanna scoffed and rose from her seat, leaving in a huff. A part of Arianne told her to call her back, but she chose against. She sat back in her seat and overheard her foster father muttering to Rhaegar.

"The North stands with you, whatever you need of us, we will serve it."

"What are you two conspiring?" Arianne asked, placing her hand on Rhaegar's shoulder.

"Just letting Rhaegar know that if he ever needs to get away from you, we are with him," Rickard responded moving closer to Arianne. "Lilia sends her best wishes as well; I didn't get a chance to tell you earlier."

"Thank you. How is she by the way!?"

Rickard contemplated whether to tell Arianne of her lost babe but decided not to. This was her wedding day, there was always time for that. "She's good, missing you greatly. I'll be sure to send her to you once I arrive home. She doesn't send too many letters though, I think she's too bored to even write now."

"Oh, I've missed her so much," Arianne said pouting. She was clearly a lot drunker than she was trying to let out.

The next person to approach her was Olenna Tyrell, who properly introduced the shy Mimi once again. She sat down next to Arianne, who was having trouble blinking and spoke about how she was also almost married a Targaryen but managed to escape. Olenna also spoke of wanting to marry Julian to Lysa or having him knighted as a Kingsguard.

"I know he is a drunk, but he cannot hope for better. Well I mean, you are an exception who has shown us the rags to riches story better than any fairy-tale," Olenna said, raising one brow. "In saying that ... my nephew couldn't guard a cat without having it killed in some way or another."

"Thank you, aunt and dear sister, you can leave now," Julian said, taking his seat back from his aunt. "Go, go find me a wife," his words came out drunkenly as he shooed her away. "And go find Mimi some friends."

Olenna tutted, indicating for Mimi to follow her. "I'm excited to be your lady," Mimi squeaked, curtseying to both Rhaegar and Arianne.

...

Rhaegar was sure by the time the night was at its peak it was time for him and Arianne to leave. "We're leaving," he told Julian, struggling to get his words out clearly thanks to the loud music being played by the musicians.

Julian's eyes lit up! "To bed! To bed!" He shouted, hollering for others to join him.

"No, no, no, wait," Rhaegar said. It was too late. It was like they were waiting for those words to be said, he saw a hoard of hands rush his way and pull and tug at him from all sides. "Hang on," Rhaegar repeated as he was pulled from his seat and pushed towards the royal suites.

Arianne was pulled up from her seat and onto the shoulders of unidentifiable men. She recognised Julian, Stannis, Roose Bolton and a few Dornishmen – but she could not tell who the blonde-haired one holding her up by her leg was. She didn't care though if this meant she didn't have to use her legs to climb up the steps, she did not mind in the least.

She looked behind her to see Rhaegar being pulled, pushed and prodded every which way as he protested. Arianne laughed at him, not caring who was around him and focusing on the man she could now call her husband.

There was a stout maid behind them, who rushed by towards the King's quarters. Someone had either informed her of his words before or she was a very avid listener.

They reached Rhaegar's chambers, Julian kicked the doors open and helped Arianne down. "They're about to undress us," Rhaegar said calmy.

"I know," Arianne responded, liking her newfound confidence. She was pushed to the edge of the bed and Rhaegar to the other side. "But there is only one man who is to touch me."

Rhaegar smiled back at her, unable to contain his own excitement. In all honesty, he had been waiting for this day since the tourney. In his eyes, that was a _very_ long time to wait. "Look at me. Ignore everything else."

The door swung open and the King made his way inside, sitting on one of Rhaegar's large sofa's. He had changed from his wedding attire to his sleeping robe and looked as if he had been awoken.

Arianne moved her gaze from watching the unknown man behind her unbuttoning her dress in a rush to Rhaegar. She felt like a little girl with a crush and was unable to her gaze for too long. She remembered Rhaegar's words, _look at me_ , so she did just that and refrained from turning her gaze to the King.

The women around Rhaegar, of which Arianne recognised a few, Cersei, Penelope, Lysa and Alyse, managed to take Rhaegar's tunic off, leaving him shirtless.

The men working on Arianne were much quicker, having her standing naked in front of Rhaegar and waiting impatiently. Her dress was discarded at her feet and kicked to the side of Julian. Rhaegar, now growing restless with the slow hands of the ladies, slapped whoever they belonged to away from his trousers. "Get out. Everyone." They did as instructed, bowing to the King as they left.

He moved one leg onto the bed and pulled Arianne on the bed. "Don't look at him," he whispered, covering her body with his own. "It's a happy day."

"It's a happy day," Arianne repeated after him, she now lay beneath him and tried with all her might to focus on only Rhaegar. She couldn't help it though, what was meant to be the perfect day was ruined by Aerys' perverted instruction. _Why would you want to watch your son have sex_? She thought to herself, feeling her cheeks and nose get hot. _I am not going to cry_. She repeated to herself, watching as Rhaegar knelt and took his trousers off.

Maybe Lyanna was right, Rhaegar was soft and kissed her shoulders, neck and cheeks. Maybe Robert wasn't good for her. Why was she thinking about Robert and Lyanna whilst losing her virginity? She brought herself away from her thoughts, wrapping her legs around Rhaegar's body. It wasn't like she hadn't played around with Julian, and Lilia had made sure to educate her. She knew a little about somethings. Her eyes flickered to Aerys, who was still sat on the sofa.

Rhaegar grabbed her face with his hand, "no, at me."

"Okay, sorry," Arianne whispered, leaning up to kiss him. "Happy day."

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am also looking for someone to help me edit, I can't edit for shit and always miss something. Hope you liked it! Let me know what you thought, next chapter is about to be cwazy
> 
> EDITED
> 
> 06 SEP 2020


	6. Six

**Lord**

**Kingslanding**

They had been standing at court, with five hundred odd people, watching as the King proceeded with his daily activates of scolding tax collectors and making a show of embarrassing Rhaegar, threatening others and taunting the court with his repeated words of treason and betrayal ... and the price they'd pay if ever it was committed.

" _He'll be extra vigilant today," Rhaegar told Arianne as they were getting dressed. They had spent a week away from everyone else in their guest house, and as much as they both enjoyed the time away, it was time to focus on their duties at hand. "Reminding me I no longer have an heir and spare."_

_Arianne rolled her eyes, Rhaegar had told her of what Arthur had whispered to him. He was asking to leave for a short time and say his farewells to Elia, who had the perfect timing of leaving on their wedding day with Ashara, Oberyn and Merida. Taking Aegon and Rhaenys with her, as if the King wasn't known to be the Mad King. "Don't cut their line in haste," Arianne said sarcastically, waiting for Nymella to hand her shoes._

" _I will do it soon,_ s _he knows that she left me no choice. The children are property of the crown-,"_

" _Your marriage was annulled, the children stopped being the_ _ **property of the crown**_ _then," Arianne said, her face turning sour. She was sick of talking of children that were not hers. "A three-headed dragon cannot come from different mothers." Arianne knew exactly what she was doing saying those words to him, stirring something that she knew shouldn't have been stirred._

_Rhaegar's ears perked at her words. He wasn't sure if she was using her manipulative words to make him feel worse about the situation or trying to get him to shut up about it. He ignored her words. "I'm having breakfast with Julian today." With that, he was out the door._

" _Fantastic," Arianne muttered, rolling her eyes._

" _Hey, what's the matter with you?" Penelope asked, watching as the squires who had come to dress Rhaegar followed him out of the room._

" _He won't stop mentioning Aegon and Rhaenys."_

" _They are his children Arianne, I'm sure he misses them."_

" _He wasn't missing them when he agreed to marry me," Arianne huffed._

" _Stop it," Nymella said, shaking Arianne from her sour words. "You might curse yourself with those negative words."_

Just when Arianne thought the arduous event would end and she could finally get back to catching up with Ned, Brandon and Lyanna, Aerys called forward a Stark.

"Lord Paramount Stark, present yourself," Aerys proclaimed, edging himself close to the edge of the Iron Throne.

Rhaegar felt his stomach churn. He was in fact not at breakfast with Julian but Rickard, who had called for him.

" _Your father is unhappy with me and I know he might send me to the Wall for_ _ **betraying**_ _him," Rickard began._

_Rhaegar hung his head in shame, unsure of what to say to the man that knowingly attended the wedding knowing the wrath of Aerys was after him. "Why did you come?"_

" _Because he would have called me either way, this way I saw my daughter, even if she is just in name, married. I wish I could say the same for Lyanna and Ned but, this is the best I could get and I'm not sorry for it."_

" _Lord Stark-," Rhaegar began._

_Rickard held his hand up. "You must tell Brandon to marry Lyanna to Robert. The North needs the Stormlands, especially now with a young wolf at its helm. Tell him to not do anything that will upset the King, he is hot-blooded, Brandon is. Ned is to marry whomever he pleases, or if an alliance is found that will do as well. Perhaps one with the Reach. And tell them all I am sorry I couldn't see their children. But stress this to Brandon, watch your steps and don't do anything in the heat of the moment. He has a wife and a child to think of now, as well as the North in it's entirety." Rickard had to convince himself that Brandon was ready to take the reigns, but deep down he did not know if he was. Brandon was impulsive, quick-tempered and carried out acts when angry he wouldn't usually do. Those traits would quickly see him with many enemies and he hoped with age and council Brandon would realise to control it._

_Rhaegar sighed once more. "I will tell them; will you ride to the North as he tells you?"_

" _He will imprison me I'm sure. Your grace ... I refuse to have a song made of my house. The Starks are to survive this, I'm asking you as your servant."_

_Rhaegar knew that Rickard was referring to the Reigns of Castamere, the song awarded to the now extinct house of Castamere. He stood up and patted Rickard's shoulder, "I will assure that Brandon doesn't do anything he will regret."_

Rickard stepped forward from the crowd, nodding to Arianne in reassurance as she sent a quizzical look towards Aerys.

"Lord Stark, you along with my wife have betrayed me in the greatest way possible. Not only are you said to be conspiring against me to bring me from the throne, but you also kept my own daughter from me ... without my knowledge," Aerys began, playing with a sword end on the throne.

Arianne shook her head, "no he was just following what the Queen asked of him, that is-,"

"Hush my Princess, let your father speak," Aerys tutted. "Therefore, I choose to be gracious and strip you of your titles and lands, handing it to your son Lord Brandon Stark. You are to join the Night's Watch and live out your days there."

"I will not," Rickard spoke up, he felt his heartbeat in his throat and the cries of his children were heard around him. The rest of the court was silent. Rickard could not let his eyes flicker to the dragon heads that stood next to the King. And then to the helmed Kingsguard, their golden armour and white capes contrasting the darkroom. He might have told Rhaegar he would go to the Wall, but there was no way that he a Lord Paramount would be dishonoured in such a way.

"Silence your pigs," Aerys scowled, glaring at Brandon, Ned and Lyanna, who closed their mouths. "Are you refusing my demands?"

"I am asking to challenge them," Rickard responded. "I have never conspired against you and was merely following what the Queen asked of me. I did not know Arianne was your daughter." Rickard was glad Rhaella had chosen not to attend court today, she would have had herself killed in the process.

Arianne felt like shouting out at the King, but the hand on her wrist belonging to Rhaegar prevented her from doing anything.

"Who is your fighter then?"

"Myself, representing House Stark," Rickard proudly responded.

Aerys let out a deranged laugh, "and mine is Wildfire, representing House Targaryen."

Brandon felt the world around him collapse, his breath shaky as he closed his eyes in dread. He knew as well from the looks of those standing next to Aerys, from Rhaegar to the Kingsguard, they knew was what coming up. "Father, the Wall. Benjen is there."

"Brandon for once hold your tongue," Rickard retorted, not turning to around to face him. He nodded to the King approvingly and watched as the King waved his finger.

There was a commotion for a while, servants working to prepare the room for what was to follow. _How was he to contend against fire?_ Rickard was unsure of what he would do as he was given chainmail, a helm and armour. He looked around, waiting to be handed a sword, or even a bucket of water at least. But instead, a large wooden pole was brought in.

"What is the meaning of this?" Rickard asked, pointing to the pole that was being positioned behind him.

"Fight the fire Stark, show us your true strength," Aerys laughed, sitting back in his seat comfortably. "Show us that Northern _might_!"

This time, his children did not refrain from making their protests heard. "If you know what is good for you, you will quieten down!" Rickard bellowed. He had not anticipated dying today, but if the gods wished for him to leave the world than that is what he would give them. He held his hands up as he was tied to the pole.

"Free yourself from those restraints and you will not burn," Aerys said.

"A bow and arrow," Rhaegar whispered to someone behind him. There was a flash and the servant was out from the room.

Rickard knew all too well was being made an example of and that it would be impossible for him to get out in time. His hands were above his head and feet were also tied. The only thing he could think about was his armour, he would roast in it. It was too late now, all that was left to do was burn. A thick liquid was poured over him, and at his feet, and a candle was set on the floor. Rickard blinked, trying to get a better sight.

He wanted to shout that he loved his children but knew Rhaegar would deliver the message better and it was better to die with honour. The candle was lit, and the room fell completely silent as the crowd behind him watched the flames make their way to Rickard.

"We've learnt our lesson, make it stop!" Lyanna shouted out, pushing past her brothers and standing near her father's burning body. Rickard let out a grunt, wanting to tell her to stop but could not speak anymore, the fire felt like it was swallowing him whole and it burnt every inch of his skin. A melting sensation and the pain from his skin sticking to his armour was unbearable.

Arianne stood frozen, watching as her foster father withered around and burnt. She heard the panting servant returning behind her, bow and arrow in hand. Rhaegar went to take it from his hands but Arianne snatched it away. She was taken back to Winterfell, where Rickard had taught her how to shoot a bow and arrow. She had almost hit Brandon who had made a show of _catching the target_.

She heard herself cry as she drew it.

" _No, keep it by your nose and follow your aim," Rickard said, directing a ten-year-old Arianne's body back to the target. "We'll focus on a moving target another time." He said, shouting at Brandon and telling him to stop being childish. "Draw,"_

Arianne placed the arrow by her nose.

" _Breathe out_. _"_

_"Arianne! Over here! Catch me, catch me!" Brandon's shouts infiltered her ears as she pointed to her target._

His voice mingling with his older version, that was currently crying out for his father. She let out a shaky breath, Rickard's grey eyes staring into her own. Aerys was far too busy enjoying the sight of watching another burn to be focused on her movements.

" _And shoot."_

She let go of the arrow, watching it fly and hit Rickard in the neck. Killing him instantly.

" _Good girl, now go get Brandon and beat him bloody!" Rickard laughed, watching as she chased after her eldest brother._

She felt all that was good in her world leave her grasp, watching as Rickard's lifeless body burnt in front of her. Lyanna stepped back, staring between Arianne and her speechless brothers and running out of the throne room.

"Who was that!?" Aerys demanded. "Who dares defy my punishment!?"

"Me," Arianne responded, throwing the bow down onto the floor. "Will you burn me as well?"

Aerys watched as she left the room, Rhaegar hot on her heels. "And so the betrayals have begun I see," he tutted. "Well, my fun has been ruined. Leave me all of you. The Starks are to leave Kingslanding at once, take yourself and your Northern party and get out of my home. I pronounce Lord Brandon Stark as Lord Paramount of the North. One more mishap from you and I will burn your entire linage. Babe and all," Aerys said, directing his words to Brandon. Aerys had no intention of letting Brandon keep Winterfell for long though. He might have been Mad but he was not stupid, killing all the Stark's now would just cause an uprising in the North. No, it was best to send a message ... they would not betray him again knowing what the consequences were.

...

"Brandon!" Ned called out, racing after his brother. Lyanna had left the Throne Room too early for them to catch up with her, "Brandon!" He repeated, turning his older brother around.

"We have to kill them all," Brandon muttered, wiping his eyes dry. He was not even angered by the death of his father, he was angered by his own silence. He hadn't even offered himself to save him. It was a bastard, a _foster_ , that had given him a mercy kill. "That ... that bitch," Brandon spat out, holding his head in his hands. "Has ruined our lives. Fuck the Targaryens, fuck this cursed crown." He heard running, looking out to the courtyard adjacent. It was Arianne, followed by Rhaegar and a Kingsguard he could not make out. "I'm going to cut down every last one of them."

"No, Brandon we have to go back to Winterfell now. Before the King changes his mind and kills us all," Ned said, watching after Arianne. There would be time to mourn on the way home, there would be time to mourn at home. Ned knew they were unsafe in Kings Landing now, he knew that no one spoke up against the King. He knew true terror.

Brandon wiped his nose, grabbing onto Ned's head with one hand and placing his forehead on Ned's. "Why aren't you crying? Cry for our father Ned."

"I can't," Ned muttered, he was never one to show his emotions and this was no exception. Of course, he was terrified, saddened, scared and feeling very much so alone, but he could not let himself cry.

"Then be angry!" Brandon shouted, slapping him across the head.

"I am angry!" He hit his brother back, "but there is a time to let that anger out, and a time to keep it inside."

"I will kill them, I will kill them all," Brandon repeated, walking away from Ned. He had to find Lyannna, and then his wife, he had to take his father's body, he had to go home. He had to go back to Winterfell. The first thing he would do was dump the whore Lilia from his home, the second would be to start planning.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now includes a segment from Brandon and Ned's POV. 
> 
> I am ... I cried writing that. I don't know if it's just me being dramatic but I really did like the character I set up for Rickard. I'm excited for you to see what his death means for everyone else. I find this book so much more action prone than the first, just going off my notes.
> 
> I really hope you liked it, I'll be taking a week break now as I have a few essays due and a PP appointment - yes ma'am finally after a year ur girl is getting dicked down! See you soon xx


	7. Seven

**Jaime's Words**

**Kingslanding**

Arianne awoke with a wet tongue licking her face. She pushed away Mops, annoyed at the dog for disturbing her peace, but when he whined, she pulled him back and brought him to her cheek. "Hello, lovely." Mops was the only one keeping her company for a moon, as she had not wanted nor had the need to leave her quarters. She had not seen Rhaegar for that time, in fact, the only person she _had_ seen was Jaime, who stood by her door day and night. Rhaegar did come, of course. He loved her with all his being and wanted to comfort her, but every time he knocked on the door he'd be met with silence. So, he would leave, only to return a few hours later to do the same and receive the same answer. He understood she needed time to mourn, but as the moon came to an end he could not help but wonder if this would be her reaction to all things that hurt her.

She was given food by one maid and made sure to remind Jaime she would not see a single person. The death of her foster father and the early departure of the Stark's along with the Northern party had left her distraught.

_Arianne ran through the castle halls, unsure of where she was going but wanting to go somewhere ... anywhere. She had seen a flash of Lyanna running into the courtyard and tried to follow her but lost track along the way. Rhaegar and their guards had followed her from the Throne Room, no one speaking up as they were unsure of what words they could possibly say. She managed to find her way to her old chambers and locked herself inside. There was a rustle at her door, but she wouldn't let up, and threw herself onto the bed, wanting the soft sheets to swallow her and her tears whole._

After sitting in bed for a while, Arianne sat up and stared longingly into the black walls. Something she had been doing many times a day, for hours on end. The door opened, and she snapped her head around to shout at whoever dared to interrupt her mourning.

"What?" She asked, looking at Jaime in an annoyed manner.

Jaime closed the door behind him, sitting down on a sofa and sighing. "Your great, great, grandmother – Dyanna Dayne-,"

"I'm not in the mood for a lecturing!"

"Well, you're going to get it. You haven't stepped outside for an entire moon," Jaime said.

Arianne threw the covers from her body, "I have lost a father," she stomped over to him in her nightgown that hadn't been changed for a week and slapped him across the head. "I watched him burn. _I_ killed him!"

Jaime held onto his head, rubbing it and deciding to continue on with his lecture. He could not help but notice her stomach amidst her hitting him. "You know nothing of your family or supposed families. What, you know you love Rhaegar? You know how you're a Princess now, by luck." He chose to ignore her words of anger, nothing could be done to repay the past. She had to move on from it and Jaime was here to remind her that she wasn't the one who died so she had to continue on with her life. 

"And you believe now is the best time to educate me!?"

"Sit down," Jaime instructed, standing abruptly. He didn't know where that came from but was relieved when Arianne looked up at him in shock and sat back down in her bed. "I was knighted by Arthur Dayne, your brother, the Sword of the Morning – one of the most skilled and efficient Knights in the Kingsguard. He, you, also have another brother, Edric Dayne, but he was fostering with the Targaryen's when your mother died giving birth to you."

"My mother is not Serene Dayne," Arianne said, crossing her hands over her chest.

"I'm sorry to be the one that bursts your little bubble of perfect coincidences, but I did my research for you. Rickard Stark goes to Dayne for a week and returns with a child at the end of that week? Serene is sent from Kingslanding eight moons before she dies giving birth? It's time you started critically thinking and piecing the pieces together for yourself," Jaime said, his voice tired. Not only did he do _the research_ he went to Arthur directly, who confided in him remembering his mother's passing and their home being stormed by Northern men. "Your _father_ Rickard cut down soldiers of Dayne's house, on the Queen's commands to collect you. All because she feared Aerys would kill you because she cared for a bastard babe. Or perhaps she knows something we do not."

Arianne looked at him in astonishment, unsure of what to make of his words. _So Aerys was right and Rhaegar was wrong and Rhaella had lied to them,_ _ **both.**_

"The Dayne's have always been close with the Targaryen's. King Vorian Dayne, Sword of the Evening, was the last Dayne king. And Dyanna Dayne was the wife of Maekor Targaryen the first. Your mother's house isn't and wasn't knights and companions. They are a House of Dorne. Their blood runs in the blood of Rhaegar and all his ancestors."

"So, what is it exactly you'd like me to do with this information?" Arianne asked, worried about how unfazed she was by it. "I already had been told."

"But you never believed it."

"And now I do."

" _And_ now you need to know who your real friends are," Jaime pointed out, pouring himself a cup of wine. "Rhaegar only has one true friend, Arthur. Everyone else, his lords, are his lords. They drink his wine," he held up his glass, "they conspire with him, for him, against him, do his bidding. But they would never lay their life for him, not the way Arthur would."

"You are a Kingsguard admitting to your Princess you would not lay your life for your Prince," Arianne responded coldly.

"I am helping you," Jaime said, tutting at her aggressive response. "You have grown comfortable with calling yourself Princess ... well, I guess it's in your blood." He chuckled at his own joke. The room fell silent, Arianne had no more witty remarks left in her. "You have to go away inside."

"I am away inside."

"No," Jaime stood from his seat and put his cup down. "I spoke to my Lord Commander, Ser Gerold. We are here for the King, not to judge him."

"Is that meant to make your words make any more sense?"

"I have found thinking of Cersei during ... the times Aerys is, you know," Jaime stuttered unsure of what to say.

"Burning people," Arianne looked away from him as she said the words, her bottom lip quivering.

Jaime nodded, "you have to go away inside of yourself Arianne, leave your body. I love Cersei so I think of her."

"You love her and yet threw away your life because of her," Arianne scoffed, she wanted to say thank you for his kind words and his short education and perhaps even swear at him for forcing her from ignorance.

"I came here to be closer to her, you honestly think I'd marry Lysa Tully when I could live my days out with Cersei here, or die a Knight trying? She is the only woman I have loved; sure, I have tried to make her jealous and filtered here and there. But she is my soulmate," Jaime shrugged his shoulders, placing his helm on his head. "There is no fault in that." He made his way to the door before he left however, he turned to Arianne. "You should call on a Maester, your bed weight is looking to me as if you are with child. And when you are done with that, go to the King and tell him. He plans on having Elia and her children killed for leaving Kingslanding without his permission. Show him you can secure a line of your own."

Arianne was caught off guard by his last statements, _when did he become an advisor._ Jaime had a way with words. She looked down at her growing stomach, she had just put it to staying in bed for too long, eating too much, crying too much, walking too little. A little part of Arianne wanted to thank Jaime for his kind words and actions, but she was far too prideful. Mops whined behind her, calling her back to sleep. "No Mops, we have to get back to life now." The little dog frowned, turning his head sideways. "What, you have nothing to worry about. You are fed fine food, you are given a warm bed, what more could you want my lazy boy?" Mops barked, jumping up and down excitedly at the mention of _food_. Arianne rolled her eyes, "my lazy _and_ fat boy."

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDITED 06 SEP 2020
> 
> My girl getting thicccc 


	8. Eight

**Visenya**

**Kingslanding**

"Hello daughter," Aerys said, sitting upon the throne and paying her the attention she had asked of him. "I presume this is important, I have cleared my court for this."

Arianne cleared her throat, unable to look at him for no longer than a few moments. She gazed up at Rhaegar, who sent her a knowing smile, and then to Rhaella, who looked away from her in shame. "I am with child. Maester Pycelle has told me it is a girl."

There was a short silence, none of the three knowing exactly how to respond. "All the more reason for me to have those Dornish bastards of your killed," Aerys laughed, his words directed to Rhaegar.

 _There would be no need for that,_ Rhaegar told himself. He had written to Elia since she had so conveniently forgotten that those were the grandchildren of a Mad King she had taken and told her to flee Dorne and not tell anyone where she had gone. Oberyn had written back, confirming she had left, easing Rhaegar's mind a little. When Aerys was dead she could return, and he could see his children.

Standing from the throne Aerys neared Arianne. He walked down the steps, granted it did take him a while, past his Kingsguard and placed a hand on her stomach. "You have done your father proud. Finally, a true line is secured." Aerys lifted his cold hand and turned back around, leaving the Throne Room through the back doors.

Rhaella, who had waited for the doors to close behind the Kingsguard rushed down the steps and brought Arianne into a hug. She did not say any words, her body saying them all for her. _I'm sorry. Congratulations. I love you dearly._ Rhaella sensed an agitated Rhaegar behind her, she kissed Arianne on the cheek. "I am so proud of you." _And so Serene would be._ "Of both of you," she repeated, turning to Rhaegar and patting his chest. She moved out of the way, turning to leave the same way that Aerys had. Rhaella sniffed, trying to keep from crying as she moved into the private passage that led to her quarters. She could not believe that her son was having another child, and her second son had been sent away. She could not believe she'd be bringing another child into the world that Aerys had created.

Arianne looked up at Rhaegar expectedly, unsure of what to make of his expression. He was unsure if she would be comforted by his touch, so he placed a hand on her hand. "You are having a daughter," Rhaegar smiled coyly. Arianne nodded, there was so much she had wanted to say to him. "You are having my daughter. She will be called Visenya, Visenya the dragon-rider." Rhaegar smiled, resting his hand on her stomach. Exactly where Aerys hand had been only a few moments earlier. The only difference being that Arianne enjoyed his touch, and it seemed whatever was inside her did as well. Her whole body warmed up, and she pulled Rhaegar in for a hug.

"I'm sorry-,"

Rhaegar placed an elegant finger on her lips. "Don't be. I understand."

"Kiss me," Arianne smiled, pulling him in closer.

Rhaegar smiled, placing a sweet kiss on her lips. They tasted of strawberries and lemon cakes, he wondered if Visenya would be born addicted to sweets as Arianne was.

In all honesty, he was nervous. They hadn't been close in a moon, and he was never one to sleep with another. Well ... there were Cersei and Alyse, but they didn't count. If anything, they were there to keep his bed warm and lend an ear to listen to his troubles when he was feeling overwhelmed, and when Arianne had left him to fend for himself when she had ignored him. But now he had Arianne and there was nothing anyone could do to change that, he was to father a child with a woman he himself had chosen, even if it was indirectly. "Come," Rhaegar whispered, taking her hand in his and leading the way from out of the Throne Room. "Don't follow us," he told the guards behind him, indicating to the sword that was at his hip. The guards dressed in Targaryen armour stepped back and bowed.

"Where are we going?" Arianne asked him, skipping a few steps to catch up with him.

"To speak, in private."

They reached the guest house that Rhaegar had commissioned before they were married, the very one they had left the day of Rickard's death. The very one they spent two weeks in, doing very little talking. Arianne couldn't believe it had been six weeks since their wedding, feeling it was just yesterday. He clicked open the door, and sat down on the first seat he saw, pulling Arianne down next to him on the plush cushions. "How are you feeling?"

Arianne looked away from him, "as one would when they have had to kill the man who raised them."

Rhaegar swallowed the forming lump in his throat. He stood from his seat for a brief moment, pacing the room as if he were looking for something. He found it; it was a folded-up letter that was sitting on a small table. "Rickard told me he thought the King was to send him to the Wall, and I think for a brief moment he thought he could challenge it. There is no challenging my-,"

"Our father," Arianne interjected, Rhaegar sent a confused look her way. "Stop lying to yourself Rhaegar."

"What are you talking about?"

"J-," she thought about her words. "Jaime told me, fa-...Ri-...Lord Stark, he went to Starfall only spending a sennight there. How could I be conceived and born in a sennight Rhaegar?" Arianne asked him, biting her lip as she waited for his response.

Rhaegar, who had believed what his mother had told him, was now wondering Rhaella's motives for lying to him. _Did she think we wouldn't agree to wed?_ "I don't care," Rhaegar interjected. "We are made for each other Arianne." He wasn't sure if she had brought it up to try and move away from him again, as she had done last time. It had made her physically ill, so what would her reaction be this time? "Do you care?"

She sent a small smile his way, "I kissed you not a few moments ago you oaf, I couldn't care if you had one eye and three noses. I just wanted you to know as well."

"I do not care in the slightest," Rhaegar responded, taking her face in his hands, leaning and kissing her. They both knew the time away from each other had left them yearning for each other more, but now wasn't the time to act on those actions. She waited for him to continue what he had begun saying. "there is no challenging our father," Rhaegar continued. "I was supposed to speak to Brandon before he left, but the Northern party left so quickly I didn't have a chance. So, instead, I wrote to him what Rickard wanted him to know – to not grow hot-headed, not to be impulsive and think about his actions. To marry Lyanna to Robert, for the Stormlands as an ally. This was his response," Rhaegar said his breath shaky as he handed Arianne the piece of parchment.

Arianne, who was not sure why Rhaegar was so nervous to show her the letter, took it from his hands. She opened it, saw the image inside, felt her breath catch and ripped it apart. Brandon had sent back a drawn image of a direwolf devouring three baby dragons, beneath it the words 'fire and blood' – the Targaryen words that Aegon the Conqueror had seen fit for his growing house.

 _Why would Brandon send something like that?_ Arianne asked herself. He knew that the Mad King was _MAD._ Perhaps he thought Rhaegar wouldn't tell anyone about it. "Have you shown that to anyone?" Arianne asked him. Even when Brandon was committing treasonous acts she would look out for him, he had the North to look after now, there was no time to act like a hot-headed young man.

"No, and I doubt I can now," Rhaegar lied. He sighed, picking up the torn pieces from the floor. "Brandon is just angry, and he is hot-blooded."

"He wouldn't," Arianne responded, her eyes giving away her true thoughts. Her light purple eyes stared into Rhaegar's indigo eyes. _He won't._ Brandon wouldn't be foolish enough to rebel against Aerys, Arianne knew that Ned or Catelyn would keep him at bay. If not for his brother and wife, his bannermen would refuse it.

Rhaegar, who was tired of worrying about it, he had spent for too long looking down at the image, rested his head on her shoulder. He had shown it to the Seer, Vesta Sene, who assured Rhaegar that Brandon wouldn't rise against Aerys. "Nothing will come of it, don't worry."

" _What does it mean?" Rhaegar asked Vesta, handing him the sketch. "No, I know what it means, will it happen?" With Arianne's absence, he had been relying heavily on Vesta's comforting words._

" _No," Vesta sighed from his seat, throwing the paper back down on the table. "He is just angry; he will not rise against the King."_

_Rhaegar bit his lip. He had just returned from saying his farewells to Viserys, the young boy was to ward in Essos. He knew his little brother would feel saddened without his mother, but he would grow and understand what it meant to be a Prince. "What of my three dragons?"_

_Vesta rolled his eyes, "how many times are we to go over this?"_

" _Tell me once more," Rhaegar said, the prophecy relaxed him. It put his heart at ease knowing all would be well soon enough. "One daughter, two sons. Three dragons. The Prince that was promised is not Aegon, nor is it you. It will be your son."_

Arianne's breathes brought him back from his memory, "are you alright?" Rhaegar asked her.

"We are never given peace," Arianne confessed. "There is always something on our minds."

"We have peace now," Rhaegar noted, indicating to the empty room. He did miss the few times they had together, where they used to talk about their dreams, their past, their childhoods. He'd never forget holding her from his balcony when she laughed at his admittance of never wanting to become a warrior.

" _What is so wrong with a Prince who is bookish?"_

_Arianne let out a squeal, holding onto his hand tightly. "Forgive me! I didn't mean offence," she was still laughing._

_Rhaegar squeezed her waist, half her body was hanging from the balcony and her feet were as heavy as stone as she tried to move his hand from her head. "Apologise," Rhaegar joked, shaking her head with his hand. He stood behind her, and to anyone who was looking from afar, it looked as if they were playing out an odd sexual fantasy._

_Arianne looked down at the water beneath his balcony, "I'm sorry!" He let go of her, pulling her upper body back up. "Are you insane!?" Arianne shouted at him, hitting his chest as she felt the blood from her head rush down her body._

" _It is said it'll come to me soon."_

"We do," Arianne smiled, tracing her hand on her stomach. Amid all the commotion of Brandon's behaviour, she had little time to share with Rhaegar the joys of being parents. Well, he had already experienced it, but never with her.

Rhaegar placed his own hand over it, "I can't wait until she is here. My Visenya."

" _Our_ Visenya," Arianne corrected him smiling, nonetheless. They spoke from there for hours, the singing birds outside quietened down, almost as if they were listening to their words. Rhaegar spoke of wanting to return to Summerhall and how he missed his birthplace. He talked also of Dragonstone and how much he believed Arianne would enjoy it there.

"Would you like to go there? To get away from this place?" Rhaegar asked her.

Arianne propped her legs on top of his, "I will go anywhere you go," she smiled back, moving closer to him and running her hands through his silver hair.

There was quiet in the room, the only sound coming from the sheer blinds that blew in the wind. He looked to her, his _wife._ She looked bright, lighter than she was when he first saw her at Harrenhal. Something about staying inside for too long had changed her skin tone and given it a glowing colour. Or perhaps that was due to Visenya. Her cheeks were pink, her brow furrowed, and her body called his name over and over again.

Rhaegar moved her freshly washed hair from her shoulder and then she slid the fabric of her dress away from it, kissing her shoulder. She did not need words to know what he was instituting, so she moved her legs from the floor to wrap around his waist. They had grown to understand each other without words during their honeymoon period, speaking so little that Arianne wondered if he would ever tire of fucking. The answer was no, he did not. The private garden's, the dining table, the bed, the floors, the bathing tub – he'd initiate everywhere and anywhere. To the point where Arianne felt herself grow tired of his presence towards the end of it, and she knew her coldness came out the day Rickard was executed.

Rhaegar smiled up at her, kissing her lips tenderly as he worked to rid her dress. He slid both sleeves out and watched as Arianne wriggled out of it. The dress fell, only a little, to her waist. Arianne then unlaced his shirt and pulled it from his head, leaving them both partly naked and enjoying the heat from each other's body. Rhaegar kissed her once more, this time, the hunger for her touch showing itself as he bit her lip. He lifted her up using his knees for a brief moment, undid the laces on his trousers and sat her back down.

He wanted to rid it all, for a time. To forget about how stressed he was, how the Kingdoms were falling from Targaryen grasp thanks to his father, how he felt so alone yet so surrounded. Rhaegar just wanted to feel ... as a Prince expecting a child should. Unbothered, happy and proud.

Arianne had now rested her head in the space between his neck and shoulder, her moans so close to his ear that he felt them infiltrating his mind – ridding him of his stressful thoughts. Rhaegar held onto her waist, conscious not to hold too tightly. He felt sweat on his brow, the light wind outside helping a little. She took his hand from her waist and placed it by their side, taking control now and leaving Rhaegar to enjoy. It was Rhaegar's turn to moan, closing his eyes as he did so. _This was what it meant to be a Prince_ he thought to himself, smiling slightly.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I understand how her pregnancy can be confusing. They got married, spent two weeks alone and then she spent a month alone after Rickard died. So, she is 6 weeks pregnant – 2 months. It just gets hard explaining the time a bit. Sorry if anyone was confused!
> 
> Also, I found a way to write smut without actually writing it, I like it to be honest. It's very ... PG but not.
> 
> edited 7 sep 2020


	9. Ten

**Old Gods**

**The North - Winterfell**

Lyanna moved around in her dress uncomfortably. She gazed behind her at the two guards who had been appointed to making sure she wouldn't try to do anything reckless. "I wasn't going to kill myself you know," she said, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched a maid lace up her shoes. The guards ignored her, staring blankly past her. She was mentioning to the time, two days ago to be exact, when she had tried to jump from her bedroom window.

She would do anything if it meant she wouldn't marry Robert, but Brandon was adamant she did. He agreed her terms of marrying by the Old Gods in Winterfell, where her mother and father were married. She wanted to do it at the weirwood tree, as many Starks before had done. But reminded her that the next day she had to leave with Robert to Storms End.

" _My men are tired, we went to Harrenhal, we went to Riverrun, we went to Kingslanding and now we are here on our way Winterfell – all by your commands. They miss their wives, children and their home. They, and I, want to go home to Storms End," Robert stressed to Brandon, they were both leading their parties north and both perched on top of their horses._

" _You can leave as soon as you're married for all I care," Brandon responded, he was in no mood for pleasantries and certainty for jokes._

_Robert assumed as much, "will you call to arms? Tell me now before I start marching my men home."_

" _No," Brandon shook his head. He had thought about it, something he rarely did. Thinking before acting. But Ned had convinced him now was not the time to strike, they could avenge their father another time. Now was the time to return home to Winterfell, burn the whore's belongings and think. Well those were Brandon's words. "I want peace now Robert." More than anything he wanted to show his lords that they could trust him, for when it did come time to go into battle, they would follow him blindly into it._

" _The Prince means to usurp his father, with as little blood as possible," Robert said._

" _And how do you know this?"_

" _He told us, at Harrenhal. You were meant to stand in with your father but he and the Prince Oberyn didn't trust your hot-headed tongue," Robert replied, laughing. "He has everyone by the balls with his_ _ **handsome**_ _face and_ _ **handsome**_ _voice. His father is his only weakness."_

" _You are speaking of treason," Brandon warned Robert, wanting to remind him they were not alone on the road. "In more ways than one."_

" _As you should be, your father was killed in cold blood Brandon. Shot dead by your own foster-,"_

" _I know!" Brandon snapped back, "I know."_

_He had to admit, he wanted to take a sword, any sword, and slice the King in half there and then. He wanted to call his bannermen from the North to meet him at Kingslanding, there and then. But he couldn't, he'd lose, and pride was the downfall of many men. He had seen it first-hand. Brandon knew his father was smart, but he knew him proud as well. To think Aerys would let the title of Lord Paramount keep him from burning him was ludicrous. He knew better now, Aerys was to be attacked when he was at his weakest. And thanks to Robert he knew now that would be when Rhaegar was away from his side. That is what Brandon would wait for._

_Robert sighed, "Lyanna will be safe with me, you don't have to worry about her if you do decide to rebel."_

Lyanna had overheard it all, and her name on Robert's lips disgusted her. There was a knock on her door, drawing her attention from her shoes to Brandon, who was stood at the door with his arms over his chest. "Are you ready?" He asked her.

"You will have to take me screaming and punching," Lyanna responded, playing with the soft fabric of her white dress. It was her mother's dress, she just had it alerted to fit her body and added a white fluffy coat. The Stark cloak, which had brought Catelyn and her mother under its protection, was clipped around her neck.

Brandon sighed, sitting next to her on the bed and waiting for the guards and maid to leave them. "Lyanna," he began once the door had closed gently. "I am sorry that it has come to this, but you were born into a great House, there are certain sacrifices we must make for it. I married Catelyn, not out of love, but out of duty."

"But Ari-."

"Is not our sister," Brandon spat, annoyed she brought her up. "She is the Kings daughter, do not be mistaken. She was born a bastard and her burden is marrying her own brother to mother new deranged heirs for them. Is that a life you want?"

Lyanna looked away from him, she knew he didn't bring up the death of their father for a reason. It pained Brandon to speak of it, and it pained her to hear of it. she shouldn't have brought her up, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't help but think _that should be me marrying whomever I please_. "I wish he were here," Lyanna sobbed, covering her tears with her hands. She was allowed to cry, just this once.

Brandon took her hands from her eyes and wiped her tears with his own. "He is, he is in the walls, he is in the wind, the air we breathe, the food we drink and wine we eat. Our father was Winterfell, as we are."

Lyanna let out a shaky breath, hugging Brandon and standing from her seat on the bed after a short moment. "Just so you know, I will take lovers."

"I don't doubt it," Brandon laughed, wanting to mess her hair, but it was braided and brushed, and he didn't want to delay any longer.

The two siblings made their way to Winterfell's godswood from Lyanna's quarters, passing Arianne's old room as they did so.

" _Take it all out!" Brandon had shouted as soon as his feet landed on Winterfell's welcoming floor. The servants who he had yelled needed no explanation, and they clambered up the wooden steps to do his bidding. "And where is Lilia?"_

" _Lilia is dead, my lord," it was Maester Walys. Brandon was taken aback for a time, he had so much anger in him he wasn't ready to be given the reality. "She died, not too long ago. The babe she had given birth to made her extremely unwell."_

_Brandon closed his eyes, "and where is the babe?"_

" _Dead as well, your grace."_

_He opened them to be met with his foster sister's clothes, boxes of embroidery equipment, shoes, pelts, coats and art was thrown from her old room onto the wet floor. It brought him great satisfaction; it would bring him greater satisfaction to see them go up in flames. "Where are they buried?"_

_Walys hesitated for a while, "the babe, on your father's orders, in the crypt beneath Winterfell. We did not know what to do with Lilia's body, so we placed it with the babes."_

" _Take her out, and put her with this shit," he pointed to the belongings, "we will burn it tonight."_

" _Brandon!" Ned yelled from behind him, disgusted by his brother's attitude. He jumped from his horse, "Maester Walys, we will have a funeral for our father tonight. There is no body, but we will have it nonetheless. Send ravens to our lords and don't wake the dead by digging them up again," Ned said, marching past Brandon to his room._

Once they had arrived in the godswood's Brandon took his sisters hand into his own. Lyanna gulped, staring at Robert's toned figure that was stood by the weirwood heart tree. The red leaves almost blending in with his yellow Baratheon cloak. The guests, who consisted of the Stark's bannermen, held torches to bring light to the dark night.

They passed Catelyn, who held her growing stomach in anticipation and smiled at Lyanna as she walked past her.

They were now only a few steps away from Robert, and he sensed it too. Robert smiled to himself, and too eager to stay still, he turned around to look at Lyanna. She had a nervous look on her face, as to be expected of a bride, and was as pale as snow with her cheeks a bright pink colour. She looked beautiful, but then again there wasn't a time when Robert didn't believe she looked beautiful.

"Who comes before the Old Gods this night?" Ned called out.

She let out another shaky breath, unable to control her breathing now. _There's still time to run_ , Lyanna thought to herself, looking to her brother.

"Lyanna, of House Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble," Brandon said proudly, letting go of Lyanna's hand. Lyanna wanted to scream out and hold onto his hand a little longer. "She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods. Who comes to claim her?"

"Robert, of House Baratheon, heir to Storms End. Who gives her," Robert called out, his voice was booming and it sent chills down Lyanna's back.

"Brandon, of the House Stark, who is her brother and Lord Paramount of the North, holder of Winterfell."

"Lady Lyanna," Ned said looking to Lyanna expectedly, "will you take this man?"

She stood frozen for some time, the coughs of Ned bringing her back from her nervous state. "I take this man," Lyanna responded.

Robert held his hand out for her, of which she took, and led her closer to the weirwood tree. They both knelt in front of it and began their silent prayers. Brandon prayed for Lyanna's peace, Catelyn prayed for a quick and painless child, Ned prayed for Robert's whoring to stop and Robert ... he prayed for wine and ale.

Lyanna knew what she was praying for. _Please gods listen to my one and only wish, free me from this man. I pray a branch from this tree falls and strikes him dead. I pray a set of bandits jump the castle walls and stab him to death. I pray he drowns in wine; I pray his skull cracks open when he lays it to rest-_

Robert stood from his silent prayer, helping Lyanna from the floor. He took off her Stark cloak, handing it to Ned and cloaked her with his own Baratheon one. He clipped it, as the Stark one had been clipped and leant down to kiss her. Lyanna dodged the kiss, opting rather to kiss his cheek. Robert and the guests laughed, taking it as Lyanna being a shy bride.

...

**Stormlands - Storms End**

Lyanna stood outside of Storms End's stables, the sun was rising, and she had told the stable boys and gate keeper's she was going out for a ride – something she had made sure she did at least a few times a week. This time, she had strapped to her horse warm a leather bag with warm blankets, one plate, a spoon, and a water pouch. Her bow and arrow along with her sword that Robert had gifted her as novelty, went across her body.

" _For my she-wolf," Robert laughed, handing Lyanna the small sword._

Lyanna knew then and there, Robert was foolish enough to let her escape, he would let her hunt, ride and leave whenever she wanted. Lyanna was afforded freedoms that her father had never given her, and she didn't take them for granted, because just as she had presumed, Lyanna _hated_ Robert and she hated Storms End. It smelt of saltwater, it was dark and loud, and she was alone in it all. To get away from him, Lyanna would spend the time she wasn't out riding or hunting in the godswood, praying under the solemn-faced weirwood heart tree. She doubted the gods granted the prayer of death, because Robert was still alive.

She did try to come around to him, for a day or two, but he was truly insufferable. A small part of Lyanna knew though that if she tried, they could live in peace. If she stopped thinking that she hated him, they could become as a husband and wife should.

He brought ladies to Storms End to keep her company, but in the span of three moons had ended up fucking all five of them. It was amusing really to Lyanna, _was he addicted to sex_? She always thought he was somewhat of a manic when it came to women and the power they held over him. Women, wine and ale. Those were Robert's downfall.

She did not remember their first night together, she knew it was at the wedding feast, but she had gotten herself drunk on ale to the point of no return. To the point where Robert had to carry her from her seat to her room, where all she could remember was his face, his necklace, hanging over her. Well now she had a growing stomach to remember it by for all of eternity. Robert, who had noticed rather quickly that she was pregnant, used it as an excuse to stop calling on her during cold nights.

She looked down to her stomach, there was no way on all gods old and new that she would let Robert near her again. Lyanna had told everyone around her she didn't want to marry him and yet they had forced her, and for what? A few soldiers? No. Lyanna was leaving, she was leaving to live in wherever her feet and this horse took her. Once she was sitting comfortably on her horse, Lyanna clicked her heel and it trotted out of the castle gates. _Finally,_ Lyanna thought, _now ... where am I going to go?_

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDITED
> 
> Rimah73 brought up a good point about Rickard in that it didn't make sense he 
> 
> Honestly it doesn't make sense that Rickard chose to fight instead of going to the wall. He knew that Brandon is a hot head. And he's trying to ally with rhaeger. Why would he leave that to chance?


	10. Eleven

**Summerhall**

**Kingslanding**

"I'll be back before you give birth to Visenya, I just want to calm my mind a little," Rhaegar smiled, playing with her hair as they lay in his bed the morning he was set to leave. 

"What will you do there?" Arianne asked him, looking into his eyes.

Rhaegar shrugged back, "I like to look at it. It's a reminder of what could have been."

"What could have been?"

"My great grandfather, Aegon, tried to hatch seven dragon's eggs on the day I was born. He failed, obviously, but ...," he hesitated, wondering if sharing his ideas with Arianne would cause her to accuse him of insanity, "I believe that I was born on the very day for a reason. The gods don't do anything for nothing."

"You believe you were born-,"

"While our family burnt yes, I know it's an odd phrase. I was born," he took her hand in his and traced it, his pale ones contrasting with her lightly tanned one, "as a rebirth of our family. A dragon is born in fire, and I was born in fire."

Arianne looked at the hand he held in his own, unsure of how to respond. "When will you be back?"

"I'll be back soon," Rhaegar smiled, taking her hand to his lips and kissing it.

"Who will go with you?"

"Now you're sounding like my mother," he laughed at her concern. "No one."

Arianne propped herself from her pillow and sent him a quizzical look. "But what if you are hurt!? Or ... or ..."

He ignored her question, he'd be fine alone. "I'll take you one day, it's very soothing to sleep under the stars in the halls of what was. But for now, I'll make up for my absence with a song. I have already written a few about twilight's, tears and the death of kings."

"You are very ..."

"Born in grief? Melancholic? Attached to the past? Too believing of tales of dragons. You are not the first to think that of me," Rhaegar sighed, freeing his hand from hers as he got up from the bed.

As he dressed, Arianne sat up from the bed fully now. "I want to come with you."

"You are with child, our first child. You aren't going anywhere."

"Well then, I want to go to Dorne, is it not right I rest my mind as well?" She asked him.

Rhaegar had noticed she had gotten exceptionally good at manipulating him, often getting her way. It took him back to their conversation on her very first day in the Keep, when he had told her that a wife must obey a husband. Well, that seemingly came back to bite him. "You aren't going _anywhere._ Especially not Dorne," Rhaegar responded, pulling his trousers up and tying them at their front.

"You visit your birthplace, but you have not even bothered to take me back to mine," Arianne reminded him.

"You have not asked."

"I'm asking now."

"When Visenya is born, ask then."

"So, I must ask before I do anything?" Arianne asked him, watching as he rolled his eyes.

"That's not what I said, and you know it," he stopped dressing and leant over the bed to kiss her.

She dodged his kiss, holding her hand out in front of her face. "If you care so much about me being with child, you'd also care to know that I also need a break from Kingslanding."

"You don't do anything, what is there possibly to take a break from!?" Rhaegar yelled, annoyed by the discussion. 

Arianne's eyes widened at his short temper, not expecting it from him. He was right though; she didn't really do anything other than taking walks or holding teas in her chambers for people she'd considered her friends. But she was there when Aerys burnt any and everyone, she was there when Rhaella smiled off Rhaegar's questions about her bruises. She was there when Rhaegar would come back to his rooms, head hanging, eyes watery and they'd both wonder what was to come with Aerys in charge. "Are you forgetting who stands next to you, day in and day out at court? Watching the same things, you watch. The one you come to? Never mind the one carrying _your_ child."

Rhaegar pushed himself from the bed, pulling his boots from the corner and lacing them up. There was a long silence as he put on his jacket and Arianne watched, expecting an answer from him. He didn't want to respond in anger again, but sometimes it got the best of him. Especially recently, which is why he wanted to visit Summerhall so desperately. When he was done tying his belt, Rhaegar walked to her side of the bed and knelt down. "Don't let us part on an argument. When I return, we can move officially to Dragonstone. How does that sound?"

"It sounds like it's very far away from Dorne."

"And we will go once Visenya is born," he replied, placing his hand on her growing stomach. "I promise you."

Arianne gave him a playful glare, "don't yell at me like that again."

"I'm sorry," he kissed her, "I have been terrible,' he kissed her again, "what will you do with me?" he gave her another kiss, laughing as she laughed. "Come here," he pulled her into a hug. "I love you."

Arianne pulled away from him, placing her hand on his neck. "Come back to me before Visenya is here."

"Our dragon will be born on the island of dragon's, don't worry."

As she watched him leave the room, Arianne couldn't help but wonder if he'd come back excited to see her or to see his _dragon._

**Kingslanding – Royal Sept**

Arianne knelt in front of the Mother's statue, her hands together and her eyes shut. Three Septa's stood behind her all with their hands together as well – praying. She had coped this way for the past four moons and as her stomach grew, her prayers became longer. Apart from Rhaella and her lady's, she had no one to remind her of home, of comfort, of what had been and prepare her for what was to come. It was all good and fun to announce a pregnancy, it was another to _give birth_ and then wait until the babe passed its first year.

Rhaella had told her too many tales of her own lost babes, some of which had been named and lived to their first years but died. Arianne didn't want that, not for the first child she was to give birth to at least.

 _Make it painless, make it quick, make it easy, let Visenya survive._ Those same four phrases she repeated to the Mother, over and over again.

Today, however, she was praying for Lilia's safety amongst the Stark's in Winterfell and praying that Lyanna returned to Storms End safely. She hadn't heard from a single one of the Stark's and was worried that Brandon's temper would bring wrath on Lilia. She had only heard in court about Lyanna and Robert's wedding in Winterfell. She had also heard that Lyanna was lost in the Stormlands, lost and pregnant. The man who had told her, Stannis Baratheon, Robert's brother, told her that he was worried about his younger brother as well. Not that Arianne cared, she just wanted to know more about Lyanna, he didn't say much. Just that Robert gave her the freedom to ride and hunt as she pleased.

" _The curse of the Baratheon's," the King laughed, making fun of Stannis' own wife who had left him._

" _Father," Rhaegar whispered, stood next to him in the Throne room._

_Aerys held a hand up to Rhaegar, annoyed by his interruption. "Are your cocks that repulsive every wife must leave you?" Aerys continued, throwing his head back in amusement. Stannis was not very amused, biting the inside of his cheek and stopping himself from speaking out. He knew the King had taken to burning Lords now, he was insatiable – even the smallfolk couldn't keep him from his thirst for fire._

She looked up to the looming statue, the Mother's hands outstretched, and a kind smile etched on her face. Out of vanity, Arianne would contemplate praying to the Maiden as well, in hopes Visenya would be beautiful. But for now, all she was truly worried about was that Visenya came from her alive and well.

As they walked back to the Keep, Arianne – who was surrounded by guards and followed closely by Jaime, held her hand up to her nose. No amount of times going back and forth could stop that repugnant smell. _Why hasn't anyone done anything about it?_ Arianne thought to herself looking down. She had practically memorised the route they'd take, _rock, bump, flat, rock, rock._

The guards stopped in their tracks, and so did she. Her hand flew to her stomach, peaking over them to see what had caused their pause.

It was a little girl, holding a bundle of small flowers. "Princess!" her small voice called out, waving the flowers everywhere.

"Let her through," Arianne said, watching as the guards moved aside – still on edge. Honestly, it was a little girl. "Hello," she smiled down at the little girl, unable to bend down and look at her properly.

"Wow, your tummy's huge!" the little girl exclaimed. Her statement earnt a stifled laugh from Jaime.

Arianne looked down; it was huge in all honesty. She had also gained weight in the process of her pregnancy, her weakness for sweets and stews only growing as the months went by. "Well ... I hope one day yours will be too."

"No," the little girl responded. "I will be a knight!" She made a _swishing_ sound while waving the flowers around like a sword.

"Mya!" A frantic woman ran after the girl, snatching her up from the floor and hiding her behind her legs. "I'm sorry my lady-,"

"She is not a lady," Jaime called out from behind her.

Arianne turned to Jaime and tutted, "it's alright," she held her hand out for Jaime to take, which he did, and lowered herself down to the floor with his support. "Will you come a little closer, Ser Mya?" Mya came from behind her mother and passed Arianne the flowers, of which a guard took from her hands. She took the girl's hands in her own and noted how sticky they were, "the next joust we hold will be in your name. I will come and look for you Mya of Kingslanding and you can watch real knights fight."

Mya nodded her head, "can my mamma come too?"

"Of course she can," Arianne winked, mentioning for Jaime to help her back up, which he did.

"You can't just go around touching smallfolk," Jamie had told Arianne once they were in the Keep.

"Why not? They are people are they not?" Arianne asked him.

"Yes, people who don't wash," Jaime reminded her, calling a maid over. "Warm water and a bar of soap, quickly." The girl nodded, rushing off into the Keep. "People who carry diseases. And you, your grace, are with child. It's one thing to be charitable, it's another thing to put yourself at risk."

Arianne bit her lip, knowing that he had a very good point. "Right," she held her hands out and waited for the maid to return. When she did, she washed her hands vigorously and dried them. "Will that be all father?" Arianne joked, leading the way into the Keep's gardens.

Jaime rolled his eyes, "I am only looking out for you."

"Yes, I know, I thank you for it," she responded, entering the gardens and breathing in the floral-scented air. "I don't know why Rhaegar would want to leave this to visit a pile of rubble," Arianne sighed, touching the flowers as she passed them. Rhaegar had left four moons ago for Summerhall, and she was saddened he was missing out on Visenya's growth ... even if it was inside of her. She was a playful babe, kicking around whenever a foreign hand would touch her. Arianne made a game of poking her until she could see her small foot through her own skin. It scared her the first time she'd seen it, but eventually, she'd place something small on top of her stomach to see if Visenya would find it and kick it. Four moons was a long and scary time to be left to your devices, and Arianne realised how much she relied on Rhaegar as her safety net. She wondered why he was taking so long, perhaps he had gotten lost? That wouldn't be possible, he said he'd travelled before. 

As Arianne took her second turn around the garden's, she was stopped by a panting Penelope. "I'm sorry to interrupt your grace, the Prince has returned." 

She smiled, following Nymella to the gates as quickly as her feet would take her. She was generally light on her feet and quick as well, counting to all the chasing games she'd played when she was younger, but with the added weight of a child, she couldn't walk without it taking years to get from one place to another. 

Rhaegar jumped from his horse, his eyes growing wide at the size of his wife. He'd seen Elia pregnant, twice, and she'd never been so ... _big._ He watched her as she waddled over, trying to quicken her pace. It was amusing really, so he jogged a little and caught up with her, bringing her into a hug. "Oh, gods I've missed you." 

Arianne smiled, quickly remembering that he had been gone for _four moons_. "I'm seven moons pregnant, what were you doing there for four moons!?" She asked him, hitting his chest. "And you stink." 

"it's good to see you also darling," he kissed her cheek. "I know, time passed by rather quickly. But I'm here now, am I not?" 

"You promised me we'd be in Dragonstone to give birth to Visenya," Arianne pouted, circling her finger over her stomach. 

Rhaegar knelt down on the floor, placing a kiss on her stomach. "Hello to you too my dragon, has your mother been insufferable?" 

Arianne rolled her eyes, slapping his hand away. "Don't turn her against me just yet." 

... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied I'm back hehe. 
> 
> Our girl is phatttt and two months away from giving birth. For note, Lyanna leaves Storms End a week ago so Lyanna is still three months pregnant. Making these girls pregnant was hard because I lose track of time so I'm just trying to fast track it. How did GRRM do this!? He really built a whole universe with 300+ characters like it was nothing. I'm having trouble controlling 10 :/ ma'am!
> 
> xx
> 
> EDITED by me so not very well. 


	11. Twelve

**Dragon's Palace**

**Kingslanding**

Rhaegar stood at the gates of Kingslanding as he watched his and his wife's belongings being packed away on to carts to put into their ship. He couldn't believe he'd taken so long to make the decision to leave Kingslanding but was ready to finally be at peace from his father and his words, his actions, his _madness._

He watched as a cradle, the very same that had held Rhaenys and Aegon, was tightly secured on the cart. Rhaegar hadn't received word from Elia about his children's health, but Oberyn had written a few times – he found piled letters in his room when he returned. Telling him about Elia's ravens to Oberyn, which detailed that Rhaenys was growing as was Aegon, and they both missed home terribly. Rhaegar, unsure if his father had forgotten about his children, didn't know if he wanted to tell Elia it was safe to return home just yet.

Rhaegar had also been writing to Aemon, his grand-uncle, a Maester in the Night's Watch, about how worried he was. His father had been declining and with him the trust of their lords to the Targaryen crown. He wanted to do something, anything, but he wasn't ready just yet. He planned to, but that plan was halted when Rickard Stark died. So even if it was just for half the year, he needed to be in Dragonstone, he needed to be where he was supposed to be – to show if not the people but himself that some sense of normality was still in place.

"Are you sure you won't change your mind?" Arthur sighed behind Rhaegar, slipping off his helm to get a better look at his best friend.

"I'm afraid not, we have to leave this place. I want Visenya to born into safety," Rhaegar responded, hugging Arthur tightly. "When I return, I will take it from him then. Slowly."

Arthur, who had never heard the Prince outwardly make the claim that he wanted his father's crown, nodded. Rhaegar had always insinuated on the King's accidental death or being the only sane one left. "Well, take care of her."

He knew who Arthur was referring to, watching as Arianne was helped out of the gates, knowing she'd be going towards the harbour. Closely following behind her was Nymella, Penelope, and the newly appointed Mimi and Rhaella behind them. Julian had insisted Mimi stay in Kingslanding, saying that Dragonstone was far too rough for a girl of her age. Arianne agreed, not in the mood to argue about such small matters with Julian. Rhaella was not to join them, she was six moons pregnant and Aerys wanted her in Kingslanding giving birth to the next Prince.

"She is my wife you know," Rhaegar laughed.

 _And your sister as well._ Arthur wanted to say, but he thought against it. "Well, I hope Dragonstone meets you well." He placed his helm back on and marched back into the Keep.

...

**Dragonstone Castle**

Arianne was sure they had spent weeks on the cursed ship, her discomfort growing day by day. Rhaegar would sit in her small room from time to time, asking if she was alright. To which she would respond that she was, she didn't want him to worry for fear of turning the ship around or docking elsewhere to rest.

"We have passed Driftmark, come and look at your home," Rhaegar excitedly told her, helping her from her seat and up the steps of the ship to the deck. Nymella followed closely behind them, she had been cuddled next to Arianne on the bed they had shared when he called.

Arianne covered her eyes for a moment, she hadn't seen the sun for some time, and it was not welcomed by her eyes. "Oh gods," she muttered rubbing them. She felt the ship sway and held onto Rhaegar. She'd never been on a ship and hated every second of it.

Rhaegar laughed at her, "it's alright, come hold here," he led her hand to the wooden edge of the ship.

Arianne clutched onto it until her hands turned white. She looked from the water beneath them and up, to the island that was Dragonstone. It was big ... and dark ... and smoking. That was the only thing she saw of it. The castle was pointed like a crown, sitting proudly on the island.

"We will be eating fish until we die," Nymella muttered next to Arianne. Arianne sent her a quizzical look, Nymella stifled a laugh. "What you think anything can grow or graze on _that_?"

Rhaegar, who offended by the Dornish girls' words, cut into their conversation. "The Throne Room and Chamber of the Painted Table, I'll show you that first."

"Are you going to elaborate?" Arianne asked Rhaegar, smiling at his enthusiasm.

"The Chamber of the Painted Table, Aegon the Conqueror had it built, and it shows every major city, port, lake, _pond_ ," he exaggerated his words pinching her arm, "it's right next to the Throne Room."

"I'd rather you show it to me than explain it," Arianne sighed, growing nervous at the sight of Dragonstone. _Dragons were born here. Real dragons. Fire-breathing dragons._ Arianne thought to herself. She would be living, sleeping and eating where Aegon the Conqueror did. She didn't know if it was the nervousness of waiting to see Dragonstone, the ship swaying, or drinking too much water but Arianne felt herself _peeing?_

No, Maester Pycelle and Rhaella had explained it to her.

" _Well, Visenya is fine, your weight is fine, she is just a big babe," he took his hands from her stomach. "I must warn you however, birth can be messy and bloody. It'll start with your waters breaking, labour – whereby the body prepares to expel the child and finally the second birth-,"_

" _Second birth?" Asked him, looking to Rhaella, who nodded._

This must've been the waters breaking. Arianne looked down at the puddle beneath her, as did those standing next to her.

Rhaegar, who had been waiting for this day for _months_ let out a laugh. "She has sensed we are home. Call the Maester, hurry and dock this ship! Your Princess is to give birth!"

Arianne watched as he lost his mind, yelling to any and everyone. She held onto Nymella's hand as the ship quickened its pace. _This thing can go_ _ **faster**_ _!?_ She thought to herself, she far too stressed to yell about that, she'd do it once Visenya was born. "Where do I go!?" She shouted to Nymella, feeling as her lower stomach clenched in a way it had never done. Arianne felt her back give out and fell to the floor slowly, scooting away from the puddle of water next to her.

"It's okay, she won't come just yet," it was the Maester who had travelled with them. Pycelle couldn't come, so they had brought along another from Kingslanding. "We'll wait until we're in the castle to prepare. For now, stay there."

"On the floor!?" Arianne exclaimed, feeling her cheeks ... no her whole body grow hot.

"On the floor your grace," the Maester nodded back at her. "We're almost there, don't worry."

She let out a cry, the pain that had sent her to the floor the first time coming back. "I don't want to give birth. I change my mind."

"It's a bit late for that," Nymella laughed, sitting behind Arianne and resting the Princess' head on her chest. She brushed her from her face, calling for Penelope. Penelope, who had been sleeping below deck was thrown from her bed and had come above to see why they were moving so quickly. It only took for her to see Arianne on the floor with Nymella behind her and Rhaegar crouched down beside her to know what to do.

She ran back down, taking anything that resembled a towel, a water pitcher and the prayer wheel that Arianne had taken to making for the unborn child. Penelope dunked the towel into the pitcher, it was cold, but hopefully, it'd help. She placed it on Arianne's head and Nymella's hands took over.

Arianne felt like she was laying on the floor for hours, it was no longer than an hour, and once they had docked she was lifted by ... someone. She did not care who all she wanted to know was when she'd be put on a bed, or even another floor. She turned her head, watching as the sand disappeared from underneath her body, and as the steps to the castle grew fewer and the castle grew greater. It truly was a dragon's den, there was no time for her to worry about this or that dragon. She felt her eyes grow heavy so she closed them.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 9. 9. 2020


	12. Thirteen

**Rhaegar's**

**Dragonstone**

"Your grace," Arianne was nudged awake by the Maester, it was dark in the room, the full moon outside showing that she'd slept for a long time. "Your grace, are you alright?"

Arianne looked around, moving the covers from her bed and taking pillows from her side to sit comfortably. "Yes, did I sleep through it?"

"Sleep through what your grace?"

"The birth?"

The Maester stifled a laugh, "no. As I said before, these things take time."

"Well hurry up then," Arianne said, looking down to her stomach. As if on cue, the babe inside her kicked down on her lower stomach, causing Arianne to let out a cry. She took the prayer wheel that was placed on the table next to the bed and placed it under the pillow. "Okay, what do we do now?"

"We wait. The babe will continue kicking until it is ready to come. I will have the maids prepare the room," the Maester smiled, shuffling from the room.

Arianne groaned uncomfortably, the waves outside soothing her somewhat. The door opened; it was Rhaegar. "Are you alright?"

 _Yes, I am alright!_ Arianne thought to herself, watching as he stood over the bed, resting his hand over her stomach. The door opened and maids dressed in dark dresses entered, holding towels, covers, pillows, steaming jugs and empty bowels. Behind them followed a guard, he held in hands the cradle they had brought from Kingslanding.

"Shall we put a dragon's egg in it?" Rhaegar joked. He had told Arianne about the old practice of Targaryen's placing dragon's eggs in their children's cradles and waiting for them to hatch.

"Rhaegar, I'm not in the mood for jokes," Arianne said, clenching her fists as a sharp pain went down her spine. She was never a loud person, but the pain was truly testing her.

Another woman clad in white entered the room.

"Your grace," she nodded. "I am one of the wet nurses and will be helping you give birth. My name is Georgia."

Arianne nodded at her, trying to say hello but her words coming as a _hhhhhhhhhaoo_

"I'm afraid this next part is uncomfortable, your grace," Georgia said. She washed her hands in a bowel that she was offered and rolled her sleeves up. Georgia took a pillow that a maid had given her and placed it near Arianne's legs. She then lifted her legs, and spread them, putting them on top of the pillow. "Breathe in and out with me princess." She took a deep breath in, and Arianne followed her. "A prayer circle, you are devout?"

"When it suits me," Arianne responded honestly, still following her breathing pattern. It was the truth; she had only grown closer to the gods recently and it was for her own comfort. Georgia laughed, she looked between Arianne's legs and to her surprise pushed three fingers into her. "Hey!"

"I told you it was uncomfortable," Georgia responded. "Okay, the babe is a little way away. It could be a long night, your grace you should leave."

"Why would I do that?" Rhaegar asked, he was now knelt down next to Arianne and was stroking her hand.

"Because ... because births can be bloody."

"And I've seen two."

 _Even when I'm giving birth to his child, he won't let me forget about his other children._ Arianne thought to herself. "It's okay, you can leave."

"No darling, it's my daughter being born. I want to stay."

Arianne felt her stomach contract, she slapped his hand away. "Get out!"

Rhaegar stood from the floor, he understood that she was in pain but wanted to be present for his child's birth. He left the room with one last look and sat down a few steps from the door. Nymella and Penelope passed him as they rushed into the room, bowing quickly as they did.

He felt like he was sat there for days, listening to the small breaths of his wife and waiting for the cries of his child. Rhaegar played with his ring, watching as the dragon gleamed in the candlelight. From the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of red pass the large window that was adjacent to him. He stood from his seat, staring out of the window. He looked up; two red streaks clouded the night sky.

 _Visenya._ He whispered to himself, sitting back down by the door. His heart was jumping for joy, his daughter was one for dramatics, truly. He couldn't believe he was to be given three dragons; he couldn't believe he'd witness the rebirth of his House. He couldn't believe he had doubted the witch who had told him his prophecy. He couldn't believe he'd sent Vesta and the Sene's home happily, the Seer should've been there for his child's birth. He was the one who had predicted her arrival.

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud scream, he couldn't take it any longer. He went back into the room, unprepared for the sight in front of him. There was blood, _a lot of blood,_ on the bed, on the pillows, on the towels, on the clothes of those who were helping, it even lingered in the air.

He watched as Arianne, who was being soothed by Nymella, hit the pillow next to her in a frustrated manner. "Get her out!" Her voice had turned lower, it sounded tired. "Get her out right now!" Arianne felt as if her insides were being torn from inside out, feeling the babe's head so close but so far away. "Just pull her out!" She cried, moving up to try and get a better look herself.

"Your grace, we can't. The head is too delicate," Georgia responded. She turned to say something to a maid but noticed Rhaegar. "Well will you help, or will you just stare?" All formalities had gone, and the tired nurse nodded Rhaegar forward.

Rhaegar, who noticed that Arianne was moved to the middle of the bed, knelt on the bed.

Arianne felt the bed sink next to her and blinked at him. "Why won't she come?" she cried, finding comfort in his eyes. The tales were right, of course, they were. They could make the hardest person fall in love with him. Arianne hoped Visenya took after her father in beauty. It was ... inhumane how beautiful he looked to her.

"Push your grace, just a little more to go," Georgia shouted out, holding her hands out in anticipation for the babe.

Arianne looked away from Rhaegar and followed her instruction, as she had done for hours now. She held her breath and pushed as hard as she could, she felt Georgia pull. There was silence in the room, and a choked cry from her legs came.

Georgia slapped the babes back, fluid leaving its mouth and her true cries coming out. She screamed like she was born to scream. "A girl!" Georgia cried out taking a wrap from Penelope and wrapping the babe tightly.

She passed her to Arianne, who gasped out as she looked down at the new life in her arms. She had been praying for her for so long she had forgotten she was _real._ It felt too real. She stroked her hair, it was white. "Oh, she's beautiful," Arianne cried out, her eyes cloudy with tears.

"Visenya," Rhaegar smiled, touching the babe's nose with his finger. "My little dragon."

"Hold her," Arianne said, motioning for Rhaegar to take the newborn from her arms.

Rhaegar took the small thing, she was no bigger than his arm, her head fitting perfectly in his palm. "Hello Visenya," he repeated, feeling his legs go numb. He wasn't sure if it was from sitting down uncomfortably or if it was nerves. Visenya looked back at him, her cries ceasing as she gazed into her father's indigo eyes. Her eyes were a similar colour, only darker, and she yawned. "Are you tried? Yeah?" He kissed her forehead, not caring she had not been cleaned, "have you had a long day?" Visenya yawned again, closing her eyes as if to say _yes, I am tired._ Rhaegar laughed, letting her go as another wet nurse took her for her first feeding.

"No, I want to try," Arianne called after the nurse. The wet nurse moved past Rhaegar and passed the newborn to Arianne. She loved everything about her, from her smell to her wispy hair. "I know you are going to be your father's favourite," she whispered, as Nymella helped her from her dress and began to breastfeed Visenya. Penelope peeked over Nymella's shoulder to get a better view and cooed as she watched Visenya's eyes stare at anything her little eyes could catch.

The room was filled in silence, the waves bringing calm back to Arianne. The window had been opened and the smell of salt drifted into the room. It relaxed both Arianne and Visenya.

"Take the babe," Georgia called out, she was still by Arianne's legs and noticed that she was yet to give second birth. The same wet nurse that had passed Visenya took her back again, causing her to cry. She was not full yet and someone had taken away her first feed, of course she'd be upset.

"What're you doing?" Arianne asked, watching as she was taken from the room.

Georgia ignored her question, putting her fingers back into her. "There is another."

"Another what?" Rhaegar asked, standing from the bed. "Another what?"

His words were ignored, just as Arianne's were. Arianne let out a yelp, she had another pain, the exact same one she had only a few hours ago. This time however she knew what to do, the second birth was easy according to Rhaella. She held her breath, put her chin to her chest and pushed a little. She felt Georgia pull something from her, and there was a little cry.

"Oh gods," Rhaegar exclaimed, standing form the bed in a haste and moving to get a better look.

"What, what!?"

He waited for Georgia to do as she had done with Visenya and took the new bundle from Georgia. "Valerion." He kissed his second son on the forehead, as he had Visenya. The white-haired child was much quieter than his sister and blinked up to reveal light purple eyes. "My dragon, Valerion."

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited 9. 9. 2020


	13. Fourteen

**Raven**

**Dorne – Sunspear**

No one could deny Oberyn's love for Dorne, he would die just to know his home would continue living for the rest of its days in peace. He couldn't believe that it was already 280 AC, an entire year had passed since the Great Tourney of Harrenhal. He was a father now, not that he saw his son much, Merida was not used to the Dornish climate and had cried for weeks that she wanted to go home. But in truth she had no home, her brothers had vanished and the Frey's held Harrenhal. Their son, Blaise, Oberyn had named him, looked more Dornish than any Dornishmen he'd ever seen. Sunkissed skin, dark eyes and dark lips, Oberyn couldn't wait to raise him as a warrior should be raised. To let him wander the world as he had wandered the world.

But he could not help remembering that it had been an entire year of Rhaegar twiddling his thumbs and waiting for the King to die in his throne. An entire year watching his sister slighted while no one stood for her.

Oberyn was never one to strike fast, and so he had waited, along with the young Stark wolf it seemed, for when the throne was at its weakest to claim revenge for his niece and nephew and the embarrassment Dorne had felt upon the annulment of Rhaegar and Elia's marriage. Lord Stark had written to him, informing him of the treasonous acts he was ready to commit to avenge his father.

_Prince Oberyn Martell,_

_I am writing to you as a son who has lost his father. As a man who is wary of being crippled under King Aerys' rule and as a Lord who has called on his banners to meet Aerys in battle. I want you to join me. I along with the Stormlands, the Tully's and the Vale, have called our banners and we will eventually hold more numbers than the King, granting us an easy victory. Should we win, the North is offering to give Dorne back its independence from the Seven Kingdom's, to rule as Kings of your own domain. As you are reading this, we are preparing to ride by the fourth moon of the next year. It will reach you once we have entered the first moon. I hope to receive your response by the second moon if not earlier, no response will mean to me you have sided with the crown._

_Lord Paramount and Warden of the North, Brandon Stark._

Oberyn had scoffed at the boldness of the letter, the boldness of the young wolf. But he could not deny his words held weight in his mind. He could not help but remember that Arianne, Rhaegar's wife, had given birth to two children. A set of twins that were now above Aegon and Rhaenys in name and birthright, something that displeased him and Elia greatly. She had sent a botched letter, detailing her anger at Rhaegar for naming the new child, Valerion, as his heir in Dragonstone.

 _How will I look Aegon in the eye when he is grown, tell him his father loved him, but loved his second son with another woman more to crown him heir?_ Elia had written.

"Have you lost your mind!?" Doran had shouted to his brother, Oberyn had just shared his thoughts with him. He wanted to ride with the Northmen and take back what was theirs.

Oberyn rolled his eyes, resting his feet on the low couch and playing with the peelings of his half-eaten blood orange. "Are you?"

"Oberyn, Elia is safe in Starfall with Ashara. No one knows she is there except for us, we need not upset the King any more than we already have."

" _Upset the King_?" Oberyn seethed, looking to his brother coldly. "Elia and her children, the children she had fought life to give to Rhaegar were discarded like a used whore and bastard babes. They are the _Prince and Princess_ heirs to the Iron Thrones. What if she had not left? What if they killed her then and there? Would you do nothing to keep from upsetting the King?" Doran bit his tongue, unsure of how to respond to his hot-headed brother. It was one thing to want revenge for a death, it was another to want revenge for a death that could have been. "I want Dorne for my family again. We are the Martell's of Sunspear. We are Unbowed, Unbent and _Unbroken._ "

"As do I," Doran warned him, standing slowly from his seat. His health had been declining and standing only made the pain he felt worse, "let them tear at each other first. Then when they are all at their weakest, then you plan what you do. A viper," Doran pointed to Oberyn, "does not strike simply because it is time to strike. A viper will strike when it's prey will surely die."

Oberyn's ears perked, was his brother agreeing to move Dorne from the Seven Kingdoms? "No Doran, the winner will be at their strongest. This is when knees are bent, and great Houses are given castles and land for their loyalty. This can only go two ways and this one is easiest for Dorne."

"Arianne's first son, my daughter. We will betroth him to the young Visenya. If there is a possibility Rhaegar will be King and we can avoid this whole war. That way Dorne is still an heir to the Iron Throne," Doran offered. "If we can avoid the war, we must Oberyn." He could not stress that enough.

"Arianne is eight," Oberyn pointed out, he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "If Rhaegar would just grow some balls, get his head from those books and witches and seers he listens to he'd see that Elia would not care, truly care for another child from another mother. She just wants Aegon to be given his birthright." Oberyn knew his sister was traditional in a sense, but she was also Dornish and it would have only taken a little persuading from Rhaegar to have her agree to a second woman. She didn't have to become his wife. He didn't have to go as far as cutting his own flesh and blood from the succession.

"A birthright that will be no more should Aerys find out Elia is still in Dorne," he neared Oberyn, "he burnt a Lord Paramount, the one who fostered his daughter for sixteen years, to the crisp. What will he do to us? The ones who took away two heirs from the throne without permission?"

Oberyn shrugged, looking up at Doran. "It has been ten moons; he has done nothing but send envoys asking for Elia. And to their knowledge, we do not know where she is. What more can he do?"

"I have two children to care for Oberyn-,"

"As do I!"

"I have an heir to protect. Elia is safe. I'm telling you this, let them tear each other apart if it comes to war or waits for Rhaegar to take the Throne. Then the conversation can be had without war."

"Rhaegar will take the Throne when we are all dead, he moves slower than a man with heatstroke in the desert," Oberyn tutted, annoyed by Doran's refusal to join Brandon in his war. He wouldn't respond to the raven; he'd have to wait. Like he had waited before, but if it meant Dorne could be returned to their hands with no blood spilled then he would wait. "My love," Oberyn called out, watching as his paramour, Ellaria Sand made her way from the shadows into his arms.

"What are you discussing?" She asked him, placing a kiss on his lips.

"How we will make Dorne ours again," Oberyn smiled back to her, pulling her on top of his body.

Doran rolled his eyes, sitting back on his chair. "This is our entertaining area. Please go to your chambers."

"Gladly brother."

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UNEDITED
> 
> Before commenting please remember this is AU - character's are GRRM's but their characteristics might differ at they are built to be in a world I imagined them to be in outside of GRRM's.


	14. Fifteen

**Edge**

**Dragonstone**

" _Lord Brandon Stark is said to be raising an army against the King, your grace."_

Rhaegar's eyes snapped open and he sat up from his bed, the loud waves of the angry sea beneath them startling him awake. That or it was the words that his grand-uncle at the wall had written to him that replayed in his mind, even in sleep, that woke him.

He turned his head, Arianne moved in her sleep uncomfortably, but she did not wake. His movements startling her enough to turn away from his body and move closer to the cradles that lay next to her. His children, Visenya and Valerion, both stayed asleep as well. Visenya was a light sleeper, so small noises tended to wake her, and she'd scream the castle down until she was calmed down by either the wet nurse or her father. Arianne was at first unhappy her daughter did not want her when she was upset, but quickly realised it might've been a blessing to only have Valerion clinging onto her.

Rhaegar stood from the bed slowly, knowing the sun would be up soon enough and his duties would wake up shortly anyway.

As he dressed, he couldn't believe the words that Maester Aemon had written to him. There was no outwardly cry that Brandon was calling his banners, there was no messenger to Dragonstone nor Kingslanding that he'd heard of that had informed them. Perhaps he was gathering numbers, testing out who would side with him and who wouldn't. Aemon hadn't told him who but Rhaegar concluded the Northmen, the Tully's and Baratheon's by marriage, apart from them he did not know anyone else.

All he knew was that he needed to make sure his children were in a safe place, but where exactly would that safe place be? It certainly wasn't Dorne, Elia had made that much clear. Writing a very distressing letter to Rhaegar detailing her anger at his naming Valerion his new heir. In hindsight, she was right, but Aegon would have Dragonstone. That would be enough ... wouldn't it?

He couldn't appease both sons with the title to the Throne and Arianne had insisted on Valerion being named his heir.

" _He is your dragon is he not? He is the purest of the two, closest in relation to the Throne," Arianne reminded him, playing with Valerion's hair as she bounced the babe on her back after his feeding. "And he was a gift from the gods Rhaegar. You cannot deny it is his birthright."_

He shook the thought from his head, planting a small kiss on Arianne's cheek before leaving the room. He had a voyage to plan, all the way back to Kingslanding.

...

"Isn't it marvellous?" Rhaegar muttered to Arianne, she was running her hands along with Throne, the very same one that many Targaryen's before Rhaegar had sat on. He was currently sitting in it, awaiting the private audience that someone, gods know who had requested of him. Arianne stood beside him, both their ruby crowns gleaming as the sun caught onto the dark red colours.

The doors swung open; a hooded figure entered holding a basket in her hand. Both Rhaegar and Arianne knew that whoever it was, they had to be of some importance. The woman took her hood off, revealing the pale face of Lyanna Stark, now Baratheon.

Arianne squinted and stepped forward, "Lyanna?"

"Hello," Lyanna awkwardly responded, bowing to the two. She felt as if she were a beggar, but she really had no choice. Arianne choked, unsure of what else to say.

"Lady Baratheon," Rhaegar nodded back, "to what do we owe the pleasure? Last we heard you were lost from Storms End."

"I wasn't lost," Lyanna responded truthfully. "I left," Arianne's face looked to ask _why_ "because I hate Robert. And no one believed me when I said I hate Robert." There was a silence as Lyanna gathered her words. It had taken her so much to actually get here, she didn't know exactly what she'd say. "I came here asking for...for...," she moved closer to the Throne, basket still in hand. "Will you take him. Even as a ward?" Her eyes were desperate, her question was directed to Arianne.

"That is your son?" She asked, looking down at the black-haired sleeping boy in the basket.

Lyanna nodded. "He is no bastard; he is Robert's son. But I don't plan on returning to Robert, so I am asking you to take him. As a foster, as we took you," she reminded Arianne. She bit her lip, looking to Rhaegar for a response. "You can change his name, pass him off as Rhaegar's bastard-."

"He is _your_ son Lady Baratheon, and you are asking me, your Prince to take him as my bastard?" Rhaegar said, standing from the Throne slowly.

Lyanna looked down at the boy, Jon, she had named him Jon. She had told herself she wouldn't cry but couldn't hold her tears back. She had been alone for moons, she had given birth alone, nursed him, alone, fed him, alone. The thought of taking him back to Robert, the thought of even answering Robert's questions, she couldn't do it. Arianne's words brought her back from her thoughts.

"Lyanna, you cannot leave your legitimate firstborn with us," Arianne said, as much as she wanted to help her it would not be good for anyone involved.

Lyanna scoffed stepping away from the two. "I should've known you wouldn't help me." She covered Jon back up with the blanket and made to leave the room. "You, Arianne, should know _charity_ of all people."

"Where are you going?" Rhaegar called after her. "You are the wife of my sworn lord; you are to be returned to Lord Robert. Especially now he is Lord Paramount." Her ears rang; _Robert was Lord Paramount?_ "His father has passed," Rhaegar said sensing her confusion. She ignored him, turning around and making her way out of the double doors that had led her into the Throne Room for their short interaction. "You are not leaving. I will call Lord Baratheon here to come and take you home."

Arianne looked at Rhaegar, surprised at his words. Lyanna stopped walking, knowing a command from the Prince was one that could not be rejected. She watched as Lyanna was led away by a few guards. "Why didn't you let her leave?" She asked Rhaegar, resting her hand on the Throne.

"Because, because there is talk of Brandon calling arms against the crown. If it is true, this would only give Robert the more reason to fight against us. I have worked too hard at winning the lords I have for it to be pulled under from me by a wife who dislikes her husband."

Arianne sent him a glare, unhappy with how he had described Lyanna. "She left for over a year Rhaegar. Over a year. Do you think that there is some ground to her hate?"

"Lord Whent," Rhaegar began.

"What?"

"Do you think he came up with the idea to hold a tourney of that size? Do you think he had the funds to hold a tourney of that size?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Arianne responded, folding her arms over her chest.

Rhaegar pointed to himself, pressing his index finger to his chest. "I am that one who told Oswell Whent to tell Walter to hold the Tourney. I am the one who supplied the winning purse, of which I used to pay Walter for his services. I am the one who _grovelled_ for days with the Reach, Dorne, the Iron Islands, the Crownlands – any and everyone who would listen I would speak to."

"You are speaking of _treason_. The same treason you spoke when you told Julian he was tasked with killing the King," Arianne reminded him.

Rhaegar moved closer to her, causing her to move back a little. "And yet here we are. I am only trying to do what's right Arianne."

"You are trying to manipulate people to do your bidding," Arianne whispered back at him, wary of the size of the room and its ability to carry voices.

Rhaegar, who had now cornered her to a jiggered edge of the Throne, felt his blood boil. _Why was she so insufferable!?_ "Pardon me for thinking you didn't enjoy watching your foster father burn to the crisp."

She felt her eyes well up and tried to push past him, but he was as hard as the stone behind her. "Watch yourself."

"You watch yourself. You are my wife, not my advisor. What I do, I do for the good of everyone Arianne."

Her temper and perhaps her jealously that arose from the pits of nowhere got the best of her. She had never realised she was a jealous person, but something about Rhaegar brought it out in her. "And what would change if you were King?" Arianne looked up at him, her eyes challenging his own.

"I would give the people peace of mind, I would make the Seven Kingdoms prosper, as they once did under my forefathers."

She raised a brow, "will you do that before or after you are done hiding from the King?" Arianne asked him, pointing her finger left to right as she did so.

"Arianne," Rhaegar warned her, he wasn't an angry man, he never was and he never would be, but sometimes she'd push him to his limits. She had a knack for cornering him until he had no choice but to lash out at her. Rhaegar did not want that to happen this time.

"Are we doing to pretend like you aren't his son? You believe he has gone mad and you are not on your way to his own madness?"

He bit his tongue, not wanting to say something he'd regret in the future. "Laying eyes on you was the biggest mistake I ever made."

"There you see, what a gentleman you are," she moved her foot to stand on one of the lower granites of the Throne. Looking down at Rhaegar, Arianne said, "you are not gentle. You are caught up in a prophecy that you found in a book. You fade in and out of melancholy because it suits you to. You are a little boy, given everything in life, and too scared to save your own people."

He slapped her. Arianne held onto cheek as it stung. Rhaegar had not meant to do it, but her words rang true and he couldn't take facing the disappointment he was becoming. Arianne, who was always one to hold her own ground, slapped him back. "You slapped me!" Rhaegar exclaimed, touching his now red cheek.

"You slapped me!" Arianne responded, pointing to her own.

He huffed, "I do not have to explain any of my actions to you, Arianne. None of them."

"Then why am I your wife?"

"To give me three dragons."

"And what if I can't? As Elia couldn't? Will you get rid of me then as well? Will you get rid of Visenya and Valerion? Try again with another woman?"

He slapped her again, this time on the other cheek. Arianne did not hold back this time, hitting his chest as hard as she could and kicking his legs – her own dress betrayed her as it got caught on her shoes.

Rhaegar wasn't enjoying the woman she was becoming, with little to no guidance from Rhaella in Dragonstone, she had become unruly and far from the woman he had fallen in love with in Harrenhal. But he had to admit, no matter how much talking they did of their current political predicament, no matter how much he thought and stressed, they always found a way to turn anything and everything into sex.

As they were doing now. "I," she balled her hand into a fist and hit his chest, "am," and again, "not ... some ... weak ... whore!"

Rhaegar turned her around, her small hands giving him little to no pain, just annoyance, and bent her over the Throne. It was probably at that moment that many of those in the room around them, from Nymella and Penelope who were stood by the door quietly, to the guards who were stood in different places of the room, knew it was time to leave. Rhaegar and Arianne did not take notice as the doors shut once more, he lifted her dress up and his trousers down. "No, then what are you?"

"I am Arianne Sand of House Targaryen, first of her name. Mother of your dragons," Arianne cried out, unashamed by her wanton moans.

"And who am I?" Rhaegar moaned, holding onto her hips roughly, licking his fingers and placing two into her. She could not speak, only whimpering out a few words along the line of his name and titles. This would be Baelor, a dragon convinced in the heat of anger and passion.

_Maybe he did think too much of the prophecy?_

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UNEDITED - looking for help to edit/write


	15. Sixteen

**Homes**

** Dragonstone **

Arianne stood, hands held in front of her, as Robert Baratheon's ship pulled into Dragonstone's harbour, docking next to the ship that had carried them from Kingslanding – the very same one taking them home soon. She had suggested to Rhaegar that she wanted to greet him, to have a conversation with him about his treatment of Lyanna, before he came to take her home. Though they hadn't spoken much in the last week, Arianne knew it was the least she could do for her.

" _She's beautiful," Lyanna had stated, standing from the door, holding her own son in her hands. "They both are." She was referring to Valerion, who was sleeping in his cradle quietly._

_Visenya, who was sat on her mother's lap as if she had heard her, let out a squeal. The little babe scratching her mother's nose in the process. Arianne laughed, moving her chubby hand away. "Isn't she just? I hope she and Jon are friends when they grow up."_

_Lyanna moved into the room, sitting down onto the bed next to Arianne. "Perhaps they will be betrothed," she sat Jon down to face Visenya. "What do you think my warrior? Will you ever be married?" Baby Jon cooed at his mother, staring at the babe in front of him quizzically. He had never seen another babe up close, much less one with white hair and purple eyes. Visenya's hair had grown from its wispy strands to loose curls, standing in six or so strands. He held out his hand, wanting to see what exactly was staring back at him. Visenya took his hand in hers and bit him, causing Jon to let out a wail. She didn't even have teeth yet, what was he crying about? Lyanna wondered, patting his bottom._

" _Vivi!" Arianne scolded, moving her away from Jon._

_Lyanna laughed, rubbing Jon's hand lovingly. "Oh, he'll be fine. No son of mine is going to let a girl better him." The two sat in silence, playing with their babes as they did so. They hadn't played in a long time, the last they had properly truly spoken was at Harrenhal. When Lyanna had told Arianne, she was growing to like Robert. "Can you believe we are mothers?" Lyanna asked her softly._

" _I can't believe_ _you_ _are a mother," Arianne admitted. She had never attended many lessons with their Septa, and Arianne wondered how she had done it all alone up until now. Even she, the one who had gone to every single lesson on politics, history, lore, childbearing, stitching ... and so many more would be lost without the wet nurses and maids and her ladies-in-waiting._

_Lyanna let out a scoff, "I couldn't be free forever, as your husband so kindly reminded me."_

" _Why do you hate him so much?"_

" _The Prince?"_

" _Robert."_

_Lyanna bit her lip, "his whoring, his drunkenness, his ...-," she had nothing else to say. "I hate him because I never wanted to marry in the first place. He reminds me that I am a tool. You married for love, I married because Brandon and father thought it best, I marry. I would've grown to hate any man they had paired me with."_

_Arianne nodded in understanding, moving the demanding Visenya's hands away from her dress collar. "Sorry, she is so determined sometimes it's ridiculous. You don't mind, do you?" Lyanna shook her head in response. She took her breast from her dress and gave it to Visenya._

_She saw the bruises and marks on her chest and brought her voice to a whisper. "Does the Prince hurt you?"_

_Arianne looked down to her chest and laughed, "no. We ... enjoy each other's company." She wasn't sure how else to word it._

" _Oh," Lyanna responded. There was another short silence, the only sounds coming from Valerion's small snores and Visenya breathing out loudly. "Will you take him for me, Arianne. I'm begging you as a mother. I can't go back to Robert."_

" _Lyanna you can't leave a man for whoring. Especially not the Lord of the Stormlands. Can you imagine what Robert would say and_ _do_ _if he knew his heir was with the Targaryen's? I don't want to give Rhaegar something else to worry about," she responded truthfully. "Brandon is already planning to raise his arms against the crown, we need to keep Robert from swaying."_

_Lyanna bit her tongue. She'd have a lot to say about that, there was no way in seven gods Robert was fighting for the King who killed her father. She Arianne trusted her with that information, something she shouldn't have told Lyanna, so she nodded slowly._

"Lord Baratheon, welcome to Dragonstone," Arianne smiled, watching as the tall man stepped climbed the endless steps to reach her.

"Your grace," Robert responded.

His rosy cheeks drawing her into his handsomeness. How could Lyanna dislike him? He was handsome, tall and looked unbelievably strong. Arianne had heard stories about him and his hammer, but she'd never seen him in action and noted that the next joust she'd request it specifically from him. "I hope your journey was easy," Arianne started, leading him back into the castle.

Robert nodded, "nothing I couldn't handle. I want to thank you for finding Lyanna. My men have been scouring the Stormlands for her, we didn't think she'd get as far as Dragonstone. I assumed ... I thought she was dead."

Arianne took his large hand in hers and wrapped her arm around it. If Rhaella had taught her anything, it was that a woman's touch was just as helpful in swaying men as gold was. "I have been wondering how she survived for so long, but she is strong and smart. In all honesty, she probably just needed a break and became too attached to nature around her. Lyanna used to do it a few times in Winterfell."

"Aye Brandon told me to give her time, she'd eventually return. But it has been moons, your grace," Robert sighed, playing with his belt. "I hear congratulations are in order as well. Twins!" He exclaimed.

"Two white-haired beauties," Arianne smiled proudly, "although in truth we were not expecting Valerion."

"Then he is a gift."

"I said the same," Arianne said, laughing at his words, they stopped before entering the castle gates. "Look, Lord-,"

"Robert is fine."

"Robert," she ran her thumb down his arm, just the way Rhaegar liked, "Lyanna had told me at the Tourney of how she liked you. I fear she is much more conservative than you may be and is slighted by-,"

"The whoring and the drinking and the whoring," Robert nodded, let out a chuckle. Her thumb had dazed him for a little, but he tried to shake it off. He was reminded of Harrenhal when the bastard of Winterfell had perplexed many of the lords and had them betting on her maidenhood. He was reminded of when he first laid eyes on her, thinking he'd take her over Lyanna if it came to beauty. But Lyanna was his, in soul and in marriage – he just knew it. If the whoring annoyed her so much, he'd tone it down around her.

Arianne pulled them closer to the castle, "yes. We understand each other," she threw her head back discreetly and let out a song like laugh. "I'm sure you can find time for them when you have attended to her properly. Besides, the King has taken to calling you-,"

"The Cursed Baratheon Brothers."

"Yes. We must show him how wrong he is, in more ways than one."

Robert knew what she was suggesting, Rhaegar had been working hard to gain the trust of his lords and his wife seemed to have caught onto the plan. He was honour-bound to Brandon, through his wife, however. If Rhaegar could prove that he could be a good King, then it would be a different story. But Brandon was hot and ready to taste war, as Robert was.

He did not respond, they passed the courtyard and stepped up the large granite steps that led into the castle. Its walls were warm, and it welcomed Robert in with open arms – as it had done to Aegon and many Targaryen's after him. He saw Lyanna stood in the Throne room, a babe in her hand and looking to Robert apologetically.

"Lya," he whispered, jogging to her and hugging her gently. He moved the blanket that was covering his son and saw the boy for the first time.

"His name is Jon," Lyanna piped, giving Robert a better view.

"Jon Baratheon," Robert nodded proudly, watching as the boy with grey eyes stared back at him. Arianne left them to discuss their quarrels in private, meeting Rhaegar behind the Throne rooms private doors.

Their muffled voices growing quiet as Jon's coos and squeals grew louder. Arianne smiled to herself, _see, Lyanna would grow to love him just as Jon has._ She walked over to Rhaegar, who stood waiting for her, hands behind his back. "Are they alright? Is Robert angry?"

"No. He loves her, she is just hard to tame is all," Arianne sighed, wrapping her arms around his waist and trying to feel what was behind him. "What are you hiding?"

Rhaegar smiled arrogantly, pushing her away and presenting from behind him a sword. "I had it made. I thought it wouldn't be finished by the time we leave tomorrow but here it is." He had not wanted to tell Arianne just yet that it was his father who had demanded Aegon and Rhaenys be cut from the line of succession, enjoying his time in her good graces, so he thought to sweeten her up with a gift for the newborn first.

Arianne was relieved to return to Kingslanding, she didn't know how long she could take eating fish, fried, roasted, baked, she'd even tried it raw once when Rhaegar had taken her to see the market because she was so bored with the food options. They were running low on the dried meats they did bring and to her displeasure, the lemon cakes from Kingslanding were finished as she had seen it fit to carry a basket with her if they were exploring the town and handed any and every person a piece.

Rhaegar held the sword in front of him. "I wanted one forged with Valyrian steel, but it is as rare as your beauty," she rolled her eyes, "and there are no skilled blacksmiths to make it in Westeros as those in Essos do."

Arianne took the heavy sword from his hands; it had been made for the sword butt that Ashara had given her. She smiled, knowing he had done it for Valerion. The sword reminded her of the one Rickard has wielded, no doubt it was passed to Brandon now. _Ice._ Except that sword was as tall as she was and was much light. Rickard had let her hold it once and quickly took it away when she almost cleaned his head off. The blade gleamed as she took it from its dark sheath. "What are we to name it?"

"Aemon suggested Dyanna, after Dyanna Dayne," Rhaegar said taking it back from her hands and placing it safely in its cover. He had told Arianne about his grand-uncle at the watch and Arianne wondered if the young Benjen had met him.

"If you like that name, then so do I."

Rhaegar took her hands in his and pressed his forehead to her own, "I'm sorry for our silly fights. You truly are my lover."

Arianne kissed his nose, pushing him away quickly after in a joking manner. "Come," she wrapped her hand in his, "let's say farewell to Lyanna and Robert."

After Robert had admired the new sword Rhaegar was so excited to show off, they had walked the couple back to Robert's ship, Robert and Lyanna bowing as they made to leave.

Arianne gave Jon and Lyanna a kiss on the cheek and as she went to say farewell to Robert, and to remind him one more time to at least hide his whoring, Rhaegar nodded to Lyanna. She shuffled closer to him.

"I will see you soon Prince Rhaegar," her words came with a sting. Rhaegar wasn't sure exactly what she meant but watched she sent an icy look his way from the ship.

Arianne, oblivious to the interaction, clapped her hands together excitedly. "Shall we go see if Visenya favours you or me today?" She asked him.

Rhaegar shook his head, turning to return to the castle. "Should we talk about Valerion become a mummy's boy?" He joked, taking her hand in his.

"Don't you dare!"

He turned to her and pouted, "well he is a little, you must admit."

"Then he takes after his father," Arianne responded, pinching his arm. "Ser Bookish."

Rhaegar feigned hurt. Her newly fashioned ruby tiara, that was better suited for a Princess, caught his eyes. "It suits you; you know that?"

"You have told me many times," Arianne smiled, she quite enjoyed wearing crowns and tiaras.

"Do you remember when I gave you mine in that carriage at Harrenhal?"

"I have been thinking of Harrenhal as well," Arianne tutted, remembering the place that had led to her meeting Rhaegar. She wondered what life would have been like if she had not forced Rickard to let her attend. He would still be alive, but she wouldn't have Rhaegar nor her two children. Nor would she know her true birthright. She'd probably still be a ward with Olenna in the Reach, flirting her way through Highgarden and it's surrounding areas. She laughed at the idea, remembering how long ago it felt. She hadn't even celebrated her name-day! "You were to dishonour me that day."

Arianne had reminded Rhaegar that he had intended to fuck her then and there in that carriage they had stumbled into. "Well it all worked out in the end, didn't it?"

"Of course it did, your grace," she mimicked her words from moons ago.

**...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ya'll are so silent on this one it's worrying me. Are you liking the way they story is going, or at least enjoying the anticipation to see where it goes? I'm like ... does anyone like it anymore lord haha.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has commented, I appraicte all your words and love hearing your side of how you see the story (it actually helps me a lot and I change it up to see what ya'll like/don't like) and what makes sense as sometimes I get caught up in the story sense leaves.


	16. Seventeen

**Impatient**

**Winterfell**

He scribbled furiously, how dare that Martell did not respond to him? It had been three moons already. He was currently writing up plans to send out to the parties that would be joining him, marching on the King was no task to be taken lightly. He had already written to the Vale, who accepted Catelyn's sisters' hand as a form of alliance, thanks to Hoster Tully. Brandon had written to him with concern of the Vale being too ... flexible, they could change their loyalty at any given time – even if Ned was almost a brother to Jon Arryn.

He swore as the pen broke from his tight grip and pulled another one out. _Bolton._ His next letter was to be sent to the Bolton's. As he wrote he could not help but remember fighting with Roose at a feast his father was holding for Lyanna's name day. Brandon let out a chuckle, he had punched the boy in the face for looking at Arianne _"as one would look at a whore."_ He could not believe how protective he had been of her; he knew her killing of his father was one done out of mercy – but Brandon could not forgive her silence. In theory, there was not much to be done, but her silence was deafening, and it made him think if she had loved Rickard as a daughter would a father. Rickard had given her the upbringing of a Lady and more – perhaps he had done that knowing she was a King's bastard. Still, bastards were never afforded the luxury, at most she should have been kept at an orphanage in Watertown – if Rickard truly meant to hide her.

Brandon also remembered his father slapping the shit out of him when he had refused to marry Catelyn and suggested he loved Arianne, more than a brother should a sister. He wondered what the punishment would have been had he eloped with her.

 _What!?_ He shook his head, clearly, the stress was getting to him. He was starting this war for many reasons – his father's murder, the dirt the Stark name had been dragged through by the Targaryen's, the fact that Rhaegar got to marry his sister and Brandon was punished for the thought of it. _Right._ He thought to himself, _I've had too much ale. I've been looking at this paper for too long._

"Brandon."

He lifted his head, it was Catelyn. She held little Rickon in her hands and bounced him as she spoke to her husband, next to her was stood Ned. Her intrusion had caused him to press too hard, ruining the paper with a large clump of black ink above the neatly written _for_. Again.

"Yes?" Brandon responded, looking at the two, leaning back in his chair.

"Rhaegar has returned to Kingslanding, no doubt having heard we are to march. Robert writes that Lyanna had gone to Dragonstone and Rhaegar himself called him to Dragonstone to take her home – with a babe ... Jon Baratheon, heir to the Stormlands," Ned said, pulling a letter from his pocket and stepping up to the table Brandon was seated on and placing it in front of him.

Brandon skimmed over it;

_Ned,_

_Lyanna ... with me again in Storms End ... babe Jon is going to be a warrior ... bannermen ... the Prince and Princess know ... Princess hinted no war was best-_

Brandon scoffed and muttered, "she's always been the diplomat." Catelyn gave him a puzzled look; she hadn't read the letter herself and was wondering who he could have been referring to. He hoped Rhaegar wasn't using Arianne's political vigour to his advantage - she was not one to be underestimated when it came to speaking with people. He continued on;

_My cousin is well, he even showed me a sword he had fashioned for his firstborn._

He looked to his brother, "he had his first-born cut from the line of succession, why is he commissioning a sword for him?" Brandon could not imagine the Arianne he remembered allowing herself to be slighted in such a way. Perhaps it was because of their distance, or because there was word Brandon was to march on the King, but no one had informed him the Princess had given birth to twins.

"Read on," Ned said, pressing his lips into a thin line. Brandon had already forgotten, the first sign Ned needed to know that he wasn't with his wits.

_I cannot believe that sly fucker got away with taking a second wife and here I am begging for Lyanna's forgiveness ... your sister ... he has two new heirs no doubt to marry each other when the time comes. If the time comes ... I hear Brandon is marching ... you know the Stormlands are with you ... the twin babes I did not see ... Lyanna did ... she mentioned they had hair as white as snow and eyes purple ... one boy ... one girl ... Valerion and Visenya ... the girl is eldest and she is a vicious thing ... bit Jon ... anyway-_

Brandon stopped reading, throwing the letter down onto the desk in a huff. "I forgot about that."

Ned "they are to be your enemy, you can't afford to _forget._ " Brandon clicked his tongue in response. "You have missed your chance, Brandon. With Rhaegar back in Kingslanding, the Southerner's apart from the Riverland's, the Vale and Stormlands will be with him. You know they call him the-."

"I know they kiss his arse," Brandon roared, standing from his seat in a rush. Catelyn stepped back in fright, holding onto the now crying Rickon – she gave him a disapproving look. "Sorry Cat."

"You have to call off the march."

"I will do no such thing. Those people killed our father if you are forgetting. They took who we thought was our sister without even consulting her eldest – who was there to be consulted. They have disrespected the name Stark for too long, do you think I will roll over and pant as I wait for their next wrongdoing?" Brandon asked Ned, making sure to keep his voice lowered as not to scare his son again.

"Yes, I was there with you, but we will lose Brandon."

"Who is guaranteed to be at their side? They will fight for the King, not Rhaegar."

"They will fight for Rhaegar," Ned repeated, unsure why his brother wasn't accepting their premature defeat.

He thought for a moment, "Rhaegar dies, they will not fight for the King. There is no chance of it. There are only a few royalists, the Reach, the Crownlands and Dorne. Prince Oberyn has not responded to me so I take it he will stay with the same people who threw his sister aside."

"And what happens if you win?" Catelyn piped up.

"The North becomes independent, as it always should have been. They can fight over that damned Throne for all I care," Brandon shrugged back, sitting back down on his seat.

Ned, already knowing it was a terrible idea, tutted. "You will not listen to me, so maybe you will listen to your lords."

"My lords have already agreed to march by next full moon, you can come, or you can stay here and act as if you are smarter than the rest of us," Brandon said, looking Ned up and down in a disapproving manner.

Ned pointed to himself, " _I_ am smarter. The Reach alone would crush us in their sleep. What you're doing is suicide, we need to stay here. Rhaegar will take the Throne sooner or later and then you can _discuss_ what happened to father rather than killing innocent and valuable Northern soldiers – all because you are angry."

"They will not crush us if their next prospect is to have a King until the next heir is grown. Rhaegar is already too scared to take the Throne from his father - even with the support he has! Once he is killed, it will fall from under them. Then ask me who is with who," he stopped to take a breath. "Rhaegar will never give the North independence, he will be strongest if he ever takes the crown. And then what? Do we wait until our children to grow until his own madness takes him? Until another rebellion weakens them? No. He dies, they will all run to the side that guarantee's the death of the Mad King."

"How do you propose to kill a heavily guarded Prince, a Prince that would not go into open battle unless absolutely necessary?" Ned asked him.

Brandon shrugged his shoulders, "make it absolutely necessary for him to come to us."

"How!?"

"Kidnap his children, pull him from his silk bedsheets for all I care. We will get it done," Brandon countered.

Ned looked to the floor, thinking for a moment. "You do as you please, I will come with you because you are my brother but only for that reason. I still disagree." He turned around and left the room in a rush.

"Ned! Don't walk away from me Ned!"

Catelyn sighed, walking to stand next to Brandon; once she was close enough, she sat Rickon on his lap. "I am angry as you are. Avenge your father Brandon and bring me the head of your greatest enemy."

Brandon smiled softly, taking her hand and kissing it gently. "What did I ever do to deserve you?"

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fuck this essay - I handed my last one in 10 minutes late :'( I hope my tutor doesn't take marks for that yikes.
> 
> UNEDITED
> 
> Looking for an editor/beta.


	17. Eighteen

**Closer**

**Kingslanding**

Arianne watched from afar as Rhaegar and the newly arrived Twyin Lannister spoke in hushed voices, their bodies facing the balcony in the gardens. She was sat a few steps away, humming to Valerion as the babe squealed in delight at the sight of his father. He drooled onto her hand as he bit into it, he had been teething and was taking it considerably well. 

_Visenya_ on the other hand ... she made sure to make her discomfort and pain known. Arianne had given her to the milkmaid to feed now as she was tired of being bitten constantly. It wasn't as bad as it was in Dragonstone though, the two had started eating food, albite it was runny and repulsed Arianne, they seemed to enjoy it. Arianne was glad to be back in Kingslanding, Dragonstone had tired her, the journey back was uncomfortable and reminded her never to go via ship again. 

"What are you so excited about, hmm? Are you not happy with mama?" Arianne asked the babe, whispering into his ear. Valerion giggled, taking her nose into his hands. He moved his lips, trying to mimic her words. "Ma-ma," Arianne repeated slowly, catching onto his wonder. He was five moons old, almost six moons, and already starting to speak. 

He moved his lips again, "pa-pa." He squealed in excitement, following his first tangible word with a series of other babbles. Jaime and Arthur, who were stood near her both let out stifled laughter.

"Yes, very funny." Arianne glared at him, "I feed you, change you, wash you – and yet you are your father's son. I am hurt Valerion." Valerion laughed in response. Arianne had never seen such a happy child; all he did was laugh and babble. Even when the hard-faced Tywin had interrupted their family lunch, Valerion had reached out for the man to grab him. He was Twyin Lannister, so of course, he did not. At the sight of Twyin, Visenya had wailed so loudly that a wet nurse had come and taken her away.

She could not think of loving two people any more than she had loved her children, apart from Rhaegar of course.

Rhaegar let out a small chuckle, her favourite kind. Arianne turned her attention from their son to Rhaegar, observing as Twyin watched the Prince laugh. The way he held onto the balcony, threw his head back, placed his hand on his chest in a delicate manner – she could not believe how lucky she had been to be married to such a man. Arianne wondered what the stiff-lipped Lord Twyin had said to cause such a response.

Their surroundings grew silent for the shortest second, the birds around them quieting down. One of the seven bells of the Sept of Baelor rang loudly. It was deafening and had grabbed the attention of the two men.

"What is it?" Arianne asked Rhaegar as he made his way over, she stood from her stone seat.

"I don't know," Rhaegar responded, how could he? He was stood near her the whole time.

It kept ringing as a servant with his hands held behind his back ran over to them. "Your grace, your grace, my lord," he bowed, "I'm sorry to disturb you but-," hesitated for a moment.

"Out with it boy," Twyin scowled.

"The Queen has given birth; the babe has passed."

...

Rhaegar and Arianne stood at the foot of the Queen's bed, watching as Rhaella lay limply on her bed.

"We do not expect her to recover from this one," Maester Pycelle sighed, moving slowly from her bed to the two. "It was a difficult birth."

"Thank you Maester," Rhaegar whispered, waiting for the Maester to excuse himself. The room had been cleaned before they entered, and there was only one maid who sat next to Rhaella and patted her head with a wet cloth.

Arianne watched the Maester exit the room, she neared the bed, "leave us please."

The maid looked back at her, "but your grace-,"

"It's alright, I can do it," she cut in. She nodded and handed Arianne the wet cloth, getting up from the bed and leaving the room in haste. Arianne dipped the cloth in the nearby bowl, wrung it and pressed it to Rhaella's head.

Rhaella let out a laboured breath, lifting her hand up to touch Arianne's. "Mother you must rest," Rhaegar called out, he was seated at the edge of the bed now.

Rhaella smiled lightly in response, "I told him, anyone but that one." Rhaegar scoffed, knowing exactly what she was referring to. Arianne frowned, "at Harrenhal. When you arrived, I said to Rhaegar anyone but her." Arianne laughed quietly in response, unsure of what to say to better Rhaella's mood. "She was to be Daenerys Targaryen; it seems the gods do not wish me to have a daughter."

"I'm sorry Rhaella," Arianne whispered, wiping a tear that was falling from Rhaella's soft and pale face.

Rhaella smiled again, "I will meet her soon enough. She would have been gentle, like her brothers." Rhaegar stayed silent, uncertain of what to say. "Gentle and determined." There was a soft silence, the soft breeze of the spring air outside cooling down the hot room. "You were the coyest little thing," Rhaella laughed once more, "and Rhaegar – you'd think he'd never seen a woman in his entire life." She was talking to herself now. "You are exactly as she was."

Arianne blinked down at Rhaella, resting her legs on the bed properly now. She leant over to dip the towel in the bowel again, Rhaella stopped her.

"Serene," Rhaella whispered back, pulling Arianne's face closer to her. "She told me, the next girl I will have is to be named Arianne Dayne. Well, she told me and Prince Doran, the little thief," she laughed, recalling Prince Doran saying his next daughter was to be named Princess Arianne and the two had quarrelled over it. Rhaella had calmed them.

" _The first daughter to be born shall take the name. Does that sound fair?"_

"I sent her away because I thought he would have killed you. There was still a chance I-," Rhaella pointed to her stomach, "I didn't know what he'd do ... to you or Serene ... or me, as selfish as that seems. And I had one of my own lords killed for it. I know you loved Rickard Arianne, and I'm truly sorry I caused such a mess," Rhaella said, her cheeks red and her eyes tired.

"It's alright, you thought no ill of it. And I wouldn't have two beautiful children to call my own without your actions," Arianne smiled lightly, taking Rhaegar's free hand into her own.

Rhaella sighed, she had finally gotten off her chest what was there for seven and ten years. "He never took another woman you know – he might have looked, but Serene was his first and last paramour. She was my lady, ever since I was the Princess of Dragonstone, she was _my_ lady," Rhaella felt her voice crack as she spoke. "He had not even taken Joanna. The rumours some people come up with," she rolled her eyes. "Besides, Twyin would have never married a woman that Aerys had touched."

Rhaegar moved off the bed and closer to her, "stop talking this instance and rest."

"I'm dying sweet boy; don't you see that?"

"You are not," Rhaegar insisted.

Rhaella took his hand in her left, and Arianne's in her right. They sat there for some time, listening to Rhaella's strained breaths and Arianne's whispered prayers. "Kill him. A thousand deaths I wish on him," Rhaella sobbed, kissing Rhaegar's hand. "I'm sorry I can't be with you as you are crowned King. Take care of Viserys."

Rhaegar shushed her, placing his forehead on her own. "You are speaking nonsense."

"To be a King is not a right, it is your duty Rhaegar. Don't lose what your ancestors died to preserve." Her incoherent words from before making sense to both Rhaegar and Arianne now. Rhaella blinked up at him, closing her eyes for the final time and letting out a relaxed breath. Rhaegar and Arianne watched as her breaths grew silent, the rise and fall of her chest ceasing.

"No," Rhaegar mumbled, shaking her lightly. "No, mother you are not dying. Not now, not yet." He shook her gently.

"Rhaegar," Arianne said, moving his hands from the Queen's departed body. If it was one thing her Septa had taught her properly, it was to let the dead rest. "Rhaegar stop it."

He slapped her hand away, letting out a wail Arianne had never heard leave his lips.

There was not one soul in the city who slept that night, the seven bells rang all throughout the night – reminding Rhaegar of his mother's death over and over again. He had half a mind to fling his body from the balcony. Half a mind to ride to Summerhall and lose himself amongst the rubble he had been born in. Half a mind to fall on his own sword. But being held in Arianne's arms stopped him, for now.

He cried all through the night, Arianne could not help but think his voice was just as melodic as it was when he was singing.

... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> r.i.p


	18. Nineteen

**Closer**

** Kingslanding **

Arianne watched from afar as Rhaegar and the newly arrived Twyin Lannister spoke in hushed voices, their bodies facing the balcony in the gardens. She was sat a few steps away, humming to Valerion as the babe squealed in delight at the sight of his father. He drooled onto her hand as he bit into it, he had been teething and was taking it considerably well.

 _Visenya_ on the other hand ... she made sure to make her discomfort and pain known. Arianne had given her to the milkmaid to feed now as she was tired of being bitten constantly. It wasn't as bad as it was in Dragonstone though, the two had started eating food, albite it was runny and repulsed Arianne, they seemed to enjoy it. Arianne was glad to be back in Kingslanding, Dragonstone had tired her, the journey back was uncomfortable and reminded her never to go via ship again.

"What are you so excited about, hmm? Are you not happy with mama?" Arianne asked the babe, whispering into his ear. Valerion giggled, taking her nose into his hands. He moved his lips, trying to mimic her words. "Ma-ma," Arianne repeated slowly, catching onto his wonder. He was five moons old, almost six moons, and already starting to speak.

He moved his lips again, "pa-pa." He squealed in excitement, following his first tangible word with a series of other babbles. Jaime and Arthur, who were stood near her both let out stifled laughter.

"Yes, very funny." Arianne glared at him, "I feed you, change you, wash you – and yet you are your father's son. I am hurt Valerion." Valerion laughed in response. Arianne had never seen such a happy child; all he did was laugh and babble. Even when the hard-faced Tywin had interrupted their family lunch, Valerion had reached out for the man to grab him. He was Twyin Lannister, so of course, he did not. At the sight of Twyin, Visenya had wailed so loudly that a wet nurse had come and taken her away.

She could not think of loving two people any more than she had loved her children, apart from Rhaegar of course.

Rhaegar let out a small chuckle, her favourite kind. Arianne turned her attention from their son to Rhaegar, observing as Twyin watched the Prince laugh. The way he held onto the balcony, threw his head back, placed his hand on his chest in a delicate manner – she could not believe how lucky she had been to be married to such a man. Arianne wondered what the stiff-lipped Lord Twyin had said to cause such a response.

Their surroundings grew silent for the shortest second, the birds around them quieting down. One of the seven bells of the Sept of Baelor rang loudly. It was deafening and had grabbed the attention of the two men.

"What is it?" Arianne asked Rhaegar as he made his way over, she stood from her stone seat.

"I don't know," Rhaegar responded, how could he? He was stood near her the whole time.

It kept ringing as a servant with his hands held behind his back ran over to them. "Your grace, your grace, my lord," he bowed, "I'm sorry to disturb you but-," hesitated for a moment.

"Out with it boy," Twyin scowled.

"The Queen has given birth; the babe has passed."

...

Rhaegar and Arianne stood at the foot of the Queen's bed, watching as Rhaella lay limply on her bed.

"We do not expect her to recover from this one," Maester Pycelle sighed, moving slowly from her bed to the two. "It was a difficult birth."

"Thank you Maester," Rhaegar whispered, waiting for the Maester to excuse himself. The room had been cleaned before they entered, and there was only one maid who sat next to Rhaella and patted her head with a wet cloth.

Arianne watched the Maester exit the room, she neared the bed, "leave us please."

The maid looked back at her, "but your grace-,"

"It's alright, I can do it," she cut in. She nodded and handed Arianne the wet cloth, getting up from the bed and leaving the room in haste. Arianne dipped the cloth in the nearby bowl, wrung it and pressed it to Rhaella's head.

Rhaella let out a laboured breath, lifting her hand up to touch Arianne's. "Mother you must rest," Rhaegar called out, he was seated at the edge of the bed now.

Rhaella smiled lightly in response, "I told him, anyone but that one." Rhaegar scoffed, knowing exactly what she was referring to. Arianne frowned, "at Harrenhal. When you arrived, I said to Rhaegar anyone but her." Arianne laughed quietly in response, unsure of what to say to better Rhaella's mood. "She was to be Daenerys Targaryen; it seems the gods do not wish me to have a daughter."

"I'm sorry Rhaella," Arianne whispered, wiping a tear that was falling from Rhaella's soft and pale face.

Rhaella smiled again, "I will meet her soon enough. She would have been gentle, like her brothers." Rhaegar stayed silent, uncertain of what to say. "Gentle and determined." There was a soft silence, the soft breeze of the spring air outside cooling down the hot room. "You were the coyest little thing," Rhaella laughed once more, "and Rhaegar – you'd think he'd never seen a woman in his entire life." She was talking to herself now. "You are exactly as she was."

Arianne blinked down at Rhaella, resting her legs on the bed properly now. She leant over to dip the towel in the bowel again, Rhaella stopped her.

"Serene," Rhaella whispered back, pulling Arianne's face closer to her. "She told me, the next girl I will have is to be named Arianne Dayne. Well, she told me and Prince Doran, the little thief," she laughed, recalling Prince Doran saying his next daughter was to be named Princess Arianne and the two had quarrelled over it. Rhaella had calmed them.

" _The first daughter to be born shall take the name. Does that sound fair?"_

"I sent her away because I thought he would have killed you. There was still a chance I-," Rhaella pointed to her stomach, "I didn't know what he'd do ... to you or Serene ... or me, as selfish as that seems. And I had one of my own lords killed for it. I know you loved Rickard Arianne, and I'm truly sorry I caused such a mess," Rhaella said, her cheeks red and her eyes tired.

"It's alright, you thought no ill of it. And I wouldn't have two beautiful children to call my own without your actions," Arianne smiled lightly, taking Rhaegar's free hand into her own.

Rhaella sighed, she had finally gotten off her chest what was there for seven and ten years. "He never took another woman you know – he might have looked, but Serene was his first and last paramour. She was my lady, ever since I was the Princess of Dragonstone, she was _my_ lady," Rhaella felt her voice crack as she spoke. "He had not even taken Joanna. The rumours some people come up with," she rolled her eyes. "Besides, Twyin would have never married a woman that Aerys had touched."

Rhaegar moved off the bed and closer to her, "stop talking this instance and rest."

"I'm dying sweet boy; don't you see that?"

"You are not," Rhaegar insisted.

Rhaella took his hand in her left, and Arianne's in her right. They sat there for some time, listening to Rhaella's strained breaths and Arianne's whispered prayers. "Kill him. A thousand deaths I wish on him," Rhaella sobbed, kissing Rhaegar's hand. "I'm sorry I can't be with you as you are crowned King. Take care of Viserys."

Rhaegar shushed her, placing his forehead on her own. "You are speaking nonsense."

"To be a King is not a right, it is your duty Rhaegar. Don't lose what your ancestors died to preserve." Her incoherent words from before making sense to both Rhaegar and Arianne now. Rhaella blinked up at him, closing her eyes for the final time and letting out a relaxed breath. Rhaegar and Arianne watched as her breaths grew silent, the rise and fall of her chest ceasing.

"No," Rhaegar mumbled, shaking her lightly. "No, mother you are not dying. Not now, not yet." He shook her gently.

"Rhaegar," Arianne said, moving his hands from the Queen's departed body. If it was one thing her Septa had taught her properly, it was to let the dead rest. "Rhaegar stop it."

He slapped her hand away, letting out a wail Arianne had never heard leave his lips.

There was not one soul in the city who slept that night, the seven bells rang all throughout the night – reminding Rhaegar of his mother's death over and over again. He had half a mind to fling his body from the balcony. Half a mind to ride to Summerhall and lose himself amongst the rubble he had been born in. Half a mind to fall on his own sword. But being held in Arianne's arms stopped him, for now.

He cried all through the night, Arianne could not help but think his voice was just as melodic as it was when he was singing.

...

**r.i.p**


	19. Twenty

**Mimi's Smile**

**Kingslanding**

It had been a moon since Rhaella's passing, they held a funeral two days later in the Sept of Baelor. The purple painted pebbles placed delicately on Rhaella's eyes reminding Rhaegar of his sweet mother's eyes. Aerys had not attended, worried for his own safety, but had retired to his rooms for the entire two days.

Brandon's forces were rumoured to be half a moon away from Kingslanding, having passed Riverrun and the Stormlands – Arianne watched as the Keep was transformed from a peaceful place she had called home to a soldier's training ground. Every possible open space was occupied with men awaiting the arrival of the Northern rebellion, colours and sigils she had never seen flying high around the Keep's gates, and armour decorated differently showing her just how seriously this war was becoming.

Rhaegar, who had summoned Tywin to Kingslanding for the very reason of war counsel, had been excluded by Aerys from the actual council. Rhaegar paid no mind to it, ignoring his father's wishes for once in his life and creating his own detached council. It was made up of Tywin, who had provided and promised some ten-thousand men and gold to pay for their expenses; Mace, who had provided twenty-thousand men and grain to keep them sustained should the Keep fall under siege – something Tywin had sworn to Rhaegar would not occur. Prince Oberyn and Prince Doran had shipped their best soldier's along, Oberyn returning to the place he had worked so hard to be free of – he was glad to see old faces though. Tywin, Oberyn, Mace, Julian and Otto. He was happy with that. His council would grow as those who had been summoned came to Kingslanding.

They had heard a few things about Brandon's requests, one of the key ones being his proclamation to free the North from the Seven Kingdoms. He had also sent a messenger a week ago to inform them of these requests.

" _He's just going as high as he can to see what he can squeeze from you," Tywin said, watching as the Northern messenger shook in his leather boots. "Who are you boy? Whose son? Whose brother? What family do you belong to?" He demanded, holding his hands behind his back as he questioned the young boy._

_They were stood just a little way from the castle gates, heavily guarded and secluded from any onlookers._

_The boy whimpered, "I-I-I I am of House Tully, a nephew to Hoster Tully."_

_Rhaegar looked to Tywin for support, "you will tell us all you can occurring in the Northern camp."_

" _My lord, I cannot."_

" _Then I shall have return you back to your uncle piece by piece, is this what you desire?" The older man responded, Rhaegar wanted to interrupt but knew Tywin would do no such thing ... he hoped._

_The boy looked from the Prince to the lord and gave a defeated sigh. "They are about half a moon ride away. You've made it a little easy. House Grafton of the refused the call of the Arryn's. Houses Darry, Ryger, Goodbrook and Mooton refused their call from us -," he referred to the Tully's, "Houses Fell, Cafferen, Grandison and Connington refused the call of the Stormlands. House Connington-,"_

" _Did I ask for schooling?" Tywin asked the boy, nearing him. "I asked you to tell us all can about the Northern camp. We know about those loyal to us standing for what is right. Now ... will you tell us?"_

_The boy, who had been skirting around giving important information sighed once more. "They have forty thousand men, seasoned fighters. My cousin, Lysa, was married to Jon Arryn as an alliance with the Vale."_

" _Are they angry?" Rhaegar asked him._

" _Very your grace. King-,"_

" _King?" Tywin looked back to Rhaegar. He had told Rhaegar the only way that the Lannister's would support the Targaryen's was if he took the crown from his father, peacefully or not. And now Brandon was not only demanding the North be independent, but he had crowned himself as King. He was not one to stay on a losing side and needed Rhaegar to make his moves, quickly._

" _Yes, my lord. King Brandon ... he is very angry. Every night he swears to cut you down, your grace."_

" _Right," Tywin huffed, taking the boy by his hair._

" _My lord I've told you all I can!" He squeaked._

" _Yes, I want you to show this new King of the North what awaits him, his son, his lord's sons and all men who ride with him, should he continue his venture towards Kingslanding." He took his sword from his side, held it above his head and swung it down, earning a loud scream from the boy. He had cut his right hand from his wrist, sniffing as he cleaned his sword with his shirt. "Clean him up and send him back," Tywin instructed those around him._

_They had returned to the Keep a while later, to discuss their next move. "Are you sure we should stay here?" Rhaegar asked Tywin for the hundredth time, tapping his hand impatiently on the wooden desk. He had disagreed with the treatment of the messenger, making sure to make his displeasure known. Tywin had reminded him they were at war not making a truce with the Stark's._

_Tywin nodded his head, "your father ... he has sent at least ten-thousand Targaryen soldiers for a butchering. Meeting Brandon in an open field is a waste of men. Let him come to us, we will close the cities gates as they near and starve them out. His men will show their loyalty then."_

_Rhaegar nodded. "I understand."_

" _Your grace," Tywin began, Rhaegar knew what he was to say, he had been saying it for so long now. "I am loyal to you, you know this. I am not fighting for a Mad King to stay on that Throne – I am fighting for a new future. You must make it known that you are the fittest one to rule and take him from the throne."_

He was now sat on a chair by a garden balcony that overlooked the city, almost waiting for Brandon to march the city that very moment. His wife, who had been confirmed to being five moons with child by Maester Pycelle, was somewhere within the Keep with the children.

Rhaegar had to admit, this time around she had barely shown any signs to pregnancy and was not as round as she was the same time she had been with child with the twins. That or perhaps he had not been paying enough attention to her. That meant the twins were now six moons old almost seven and had shown their first two front teeth. He preferred spending time with them, the talk about Brandon annoying him from time to time. Tywin had proposed they wait in Kingslanding, drawing them in. But they were constantly hearing of castles they had sacked and of the land they gained – having called most of their men to the city. He had to promise large reparations for the families who had sacrificed their ancestral homes as bait, going as far as to give secondary castles to some.

Of course, he had a conversation, well more argument with Arianne about her leaving Kingslanding. She insisted on staying in Kingslanding and had asked Rhaegar if he was so confident in their victory why he felt the need to send her away. They had come to the compromise of sending the twins to Dorne in a week's time with Nymella and Penelope to stay with the Martell's as a form of trust-building. Prince Doran had also requested Oberyn be given a seat at the war council – which he was, and be given a private audience with Rhaegar – which he would be in a few days.

He sighed, playing with his ring. Now all he had to worry about was bringing his father gently from the throne.

"You!"

Rhaegar snapped his head around, it was Julian, running towards him at speeds unknown to man. Behind him ran Otto and Mace, unable to keep up with the light-footed Tyrell.

Arthur and Ser Lewyn, who had been tasked with guarding Rhaegar drew their swords at the approaching Julian. "Step back my lord!" Arthur shouted from underneath his helm.

"No, it's alright," Rhaegar said, holding his hand out to the two and passing them by. "What is it?" He asked Julian.

He saw his face clearly now, it was stained with tears, his cheeks and nose were red, and his eyes were puffy. Julian drew his hand back, balling it into a fist, he grabbed onto Rhaegar's shirt and punched him. "I have stuck by you," he cried, lowering his head to a bent-over Rhaegar. Rhaegar held his hand out again to the two Kingsguard behind him. He held onto his nose in pain, groaning and blinked as he felt blood trickle from his nose to his lips. "I have waited as you twiddled your thumbs, I have agreed to commit treason for you – all because I love you as a brother would love a brother. And look at where it has gotten me."

"Julian!" Mace shouted, drawing his cousin back and apologising to Rhaegar.

He shouted a few incoherent words, "I would fall on my own sword before fighting for a coward!"

"What in the gods' name is wrong with him!?" Rhaegar exclaimed, wiping his nose dry with his shirt.

"The King has had Mimi burnt," Otto whispered, watching as Julian was led away by Mace. He did not hold back from his shouts and profanities, stripping himself of his light armour as he went. He had drawn the attention of some onlookers as well. Otto squinted, watching as they returned to the Keep. "For refusing to name her brother as a traitor."

 _The_ council, Rhaegar thought to himself, he must've found out about it. It wasn't exactly like he'd tried to hide it from him.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> r.ip Mimi :/ I haven't started my essay yet and feel like ubereats but am broke! 
> 
> UNEDITED - looking for beta/editor


	20. Twenty-One

**Et Tu?**

**Kingslanding**

Arianne spoke lightly to Visenya as the two watched the babes' belongings being folded neatly. They had started packing early, Arianne wanting them to not be delayed in their travels – and to have all they needed once in Dorne. She was sure to miss them, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make to keep them safe.

Besides, Oberyn had promised her they would be safe in Dorne. He had also told her of the letter that Brandon had sent to Oberyn a few moons ago.

" _The gull!" Arianne had exclaimed once Oberyn had told her. "Why disturb a system that works? Is Dorne unhappy with its King?" A stupid question. "Sorry, that was silly."_

" _Our Princess was thrown to the side, you must understand the shame felt Arianne," Oberyn had said, sitting comfortably on the seat opposite her._

" _You are the one who told me you wanted her away from here."_

_He nodded, smiling. "You remember our conversations."_

_Arianne rolled her eyes, knowing full well this was Oberyn's way of flirting. He was notorious for it and hadn't left her alone with proclamations of missing her and wanting her in his bed. Bold, even for Oberyn. "You're ridiculous." She had to admit, his presence had been missed, and with Rhaegar so busy with his makeshift war council's with Tywin, she enjoyed the attention from Oberyn._

" _I am the one who first set eyes on you, Rhaegar stole you from me," Oberyn shrugged, his accent heavy as he spoke. "Make me your paramount!" He exclaimed dramatically, taking her hands in his and kissing them passionately. "Your bed warmer, your experiment."_

_Arianne laughed, taking her hands away and rolling her eyes. "Bring me the head of my greatest enemy and I might consider it." She joked back, turning her nose up into the air._

" _And who is your greatest enemy, my Princess?" Oberyn asked, his words coming off serious. "I will bring you the head of whoever you desire. Name him."_

" _Oberyn I was joking."_

" _Name him," Oberyn repeated, ignoring her words and indicating for her to continue with his hands._

_She thought for a moment, who was her greatest enemy? Well ... it had to be Brandon. He was the man she had grown with, but he was also the man blind with rage and ready to defy his King for it. "Brandon Stark, bring me his head and then you may be my paramour."_

_Oberyn smiled, standing from his seat and bending over the table. He planted a surprisingly fervent kiss on her lips, laughed and disappeared from the room. Leaving Arianne in a heap, blinking at the now closed door._

"Not that one, she's grown out of it," Arianne called from her seat. A maid had been folding a light red dress that Visenya had worn to her name day in Dragonstone.

"Yes, your grace."

"He's so fat," Nymella huffed from beside Arianne, she was holding Valerion in her lap.

"Hey!" Penelope tutted, taking a brush from the vanity. "Come to aunt Penelope little Prince. She's a mean one isn't it," she pouted as the babe squealed back at her. Penelope hummed as she brushed his white hair neatly.

Arianne laughed, she had to agree with Nymella, he was gaining weight – his cheeks filling out and little legs growing deep lines. "He's just ... big boned," Arianne laughed jingling Visenya's toy in front of her. The young girl had her growing hair tied in two with elastic bands, and they defied gravity – sticking out in a humorous manner. A gift from Rhaegar, she also worn a jewelled dragon clip in her hair. At first Visenya worked hard to show her discomfort, throwing the bands and clip to the floor every time Arianne would put them in but then Rhaegar had done it one night and she smiled in delight.

 _Betrayed by my own,_ Arianne had thought to herself, watching as their daughter played with her fathers' hair.

There was a knock on the nursery, and it was opened by Jaime. "The King wishes you to see you, your grace."

Arianne sent him a frown and he shrugged back. Arianne handed Visenya to Nymella, kissed her children goodbye, "I'll be back. Be good to your aunts." They babbled in response, watching her leave the room. "What does he want to see me for?" Arianne asked him.

"I don't know," Jaime said, following after her to the short walk to the King's quarters.

Arianne knocked on the black door once they had arrived, "your grace," she called out.

"Come in," Aerys called out. Arianne nodded to Ser Barristan and Ser Darry – who stood by the door and opened it for her. "Thank you, Ser Barristan."

Before she entered the room, the knight took her hand. "Do as he tells you child." Oh how she had reminded him of Ashara.

Jaime watched their interaction, seeing the young girl blinking up at the tall knight. He wanted to go away inside, as he had done so many times before, but could not bring himself to. He had grown too close to her; she was his friend and the Princess he was tasked with protecting. There was no way he'd get past the two men who towered over the door. Arianne turned to Jaime, her purple eyes watering as the door closed behind her.

"Sit," Aerys instructed her, he was stood a few steps from the bed. She moved to sit on a chair, but he shook his head, "on the bed." Arianne gulped, sitting on the King's neatly made silk bed.

Jaime looked between the two Kingsguard, "is this what it means to guard? What has happened?"

"We swore to protect the King first," Barristan responded, staring blankly past Jaime.

"So, he has burnt someone and wants to fuck. He can't find a whore?" There would be no other reason Barristan would warn Arianne to follow orders, she was never one to speak out against the King – except for that one time.

"He is your _King_ ," Barristan reminded him.

He nodded, looking to the door once more. Jaime stepped away slowly, waiting until he was at the end of the corridor to start a light sprint in finding the one person who had a chance of stopping this nonsense.

Jaime held onto his clanking golden armour as he sped up his speed, he was not about to let the man he looked up to give him an excuse to hate the new Knight. He had sworn to guard the King, but he had not promised to watch as a Princess was raped. He grew breathless as he searched the Keep aimlessly, finally making out Rhaegar's gleaming hair in the gardens.

"Your grace," Jaime huffed – he looked at him properly, "what happened to you?" Jaime glanced to the two Kingsguard stood behind Rhaegar – how could they let him – never mind.

"What's wrong?" Rhaegar asked Jaime, sloppily cleaned blood covering his mouth as he cut his conversation with Otto Redwyne.

He wasn't sure how to bring the words out, he blinked, defeated. "The King has called her grace to his rooms."

 _What, why?_ Rhaegar thought to himself, only having to put two and two together before he pushed past Jaime. Julian was right, his cowardness had caused the death of many, the anger of many, and now it was to cause the rape of his wife. Not his wife. He should've drawn the line long ago, as soon as Aerys had shown signs of insanity. Jaime was the one to bring it to his attention that the King would rape his mother after he had someone executed by wildfire. He should've been there for Rhaella.

He had never known himself to run as fast as he was, he felt his heart beating in his ears and his blood rushing all throughout his body. "Step aside Ser's," he instructed the two knights at his father's door once he had arrived.

Ser Barristan and Ser Darry stood tall, refusing to move. "We cannot your grace," Ser Darry responded.

A muffled grunt from inside of the room, "that is my wife," Rhaegar said, pleading with his eyes as the knights refused to look at him. There was another sound, this time a choked cry from Arianne. He drew his sword, "move, now." He did not care if they were seasoned fighter's, he did not care if they could cut through him with their eyes closed, he was not going to stand aside any longer.

Ser Barristan, who thought about his actions for a moment, moved to the left a little, bowing his head. There was no way to do the right thing, so he might as well do the moral thing. "Move Ser Darry," he instructed the knight, watching as his partner moved aside.

Rhaegar, in a fit of anger, kicked down the door. He thought for a second to drive his sword into his father but knew he would fall on top of the pregnant Arianne – he knew too much about the risks that held to do it. He saw Arianne on the bed on her back and Aerys stood over her. "Get up Arianne," he called out, holding his hand out for her to take. "Come here." She let out another cry, shuffling back on the bed, fixing her ripped dress and rounding the bed to take Rhaegar's hand. He pulled her behind him. "Did he hurt you?"

"No," she whispered from behind him, his age has slowed him, prolonging every step. Rhaegar knew she had lied, seeing a scratch around her neck.

Aerys turned, his eyes falling to the sword Rhaegar held in his hands. "What are you going to do? Kill your father?" He laughed manically, stepping down from the bed as he fixed his trousers. "I would've fucked her better than you ever could. Just as I did Serene."

There was a commotion outside, it was the men who had accompanied Rhaegar in the garden only a few minutes ago, they stared into the room, their eyes showing their shock. Rhaegar the People's Prince, holding a clean sword to his father.

"Finally grown the balls to bring me down have you? Jonothor," he called for his knight, who ignored him. "I am ordering you kill him Jonothor." He ignored him once more. "Lannister," Jaime blinked away from him, "I should have known to never trust a Lannister," Aerys spluttered, staring at the doorway that was crowded with Kingsguard – all who refused to do their job. "You will all pay dearly!"

Rhaegar pushed Arianne from the room, closing the door after her. She shuffled back, falling into Arthur's cold and steel covered hands. He removed his white cloak, covering her with it. Neither she nor Rhaegar had realised her dress had been torn at its back. They waited outside of the room expectedly, listening in as father and son spoke properly for the first time.

"You are unfit to rule," he began, his throat growing itchy as a lump formed.

" _I_ am unfit!" Aerys roared, "I am the reason you are who you are, usurper." He spat at Rhaegar. "I do not care if I have to burn you with the rest of the traitors out there!" He made sure those outside the room heard him.

"You are weak, of mind and body."

"So, you will kill me for it? I am your King. Your father." Rhaegar ignored him. "I will have your head for this, I swear it Rhaegar. I will have the people see their Prince dead on the walls of the castle. I will have your body dragged through the city by a horse. I will have your bastards killed in their slee...p, uck," he choked, thick blood trickling from his mouth as if left his body. Aerys touched his mouth and gasped once more as Rhaegar pulled him closer by his shoulder into the sword.

Rhaegar grunted, looking away from his dying father to the clean floors that were dotted with his blood. He then remembered his mother's words, _a thousand deaths_. Rhaegar pulled the sword from the King's abdomen and held onto the falling Aerys.

He choked something out, gripping tightly onto Rhaegar's shirt. Rhaegar pushed the sword back into him, this time his torso, right where his Maester had taught him many years ago the heart rested. Aerys' eyes became lifeless, and he let go of Rhaegar's hands, falling to the ground with a thud.

Only breathing could be heard from outside of the door, laboured and apprehensive breathing. There was no way that Rhaegar had just killed his father. Arianne pushed past the men in front of her, holding onto the white cloak tightly and opened the door. There stood Rhaegar, looking down at Aerys' lifeless body. There was blood stained on his hands, and as he looked up to Arianne, she noticed on his face as well. It discoloured his shirt, causing dark spots in it. She didn't know what to say so she moved into the room to hold Rhaegar, something she knew comforted him. The blood painting the white coat lightly as he took her in his arms, he kissed her.

She had expected him to cry, speak, make any noise, but he had almost forced himself against it. "I didn't have a choice," Rhaegar whispered, looking down at Arianne. Her own face was now lightly stained with his own blood from before. "I didn't have a choice," he repeated throwing the sword down in disgust. She hushed him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear in hopes of uplifting him. It had to be done eventually.

He let go of her, wanting to leave the room but the kneeling men in front of him prevented his departure.

Otto's blonde hair was the first thing he saw, glistening under the setting sun's reflection, "My King," Otto said, drawing his sword and presenting it to Rhaegar as a sign of fealty.

Rhaegar looked down at them. He turned to Arianne, who was looking at Aery's dead body.

_King._

_King Rhaegar._

_King Rhaegar the –_

_King Rhaegar the Kinslayer._

_..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PERIODTTTTTTT!
> 
> UNEDITED - Looking for editor/beta.


	21. Twenty-Two

**Hail**

**Kingslanding – The Throne Room**

Aerys' funeral had been one that lasted seven days, with the seven bells ringing loudly for the King's death, many of the cities people had come to see the King who had caused them such hardships up close – he did not look so mad. Perhaps that was because he lay resting on the stone bed and his finger was not directed at his next victim.

It was not known that Rhaegar had killed his father, bar from those who had witnessed it – and Rhaegar trusted them with the secret. They swore to never speak of it. To everyone, Aerys had died peacefully in his sleep, taken by the Crone in the dead of the night as his path dictated. Arianne had suggested Rhaegar stay in the Kings room, as a bloody Prince walking about the Keep, even if the Kinds room to Rhaegar's room was a short walk, someone would see. She had also dragged him to the Kings private bath, having had a maid leave water outside she made sure to get every last stain of blood from Rhaegar's body.

He had taken off his decorated jacket and found one that the King had worn in his younger days. It still felt wrong, wearing his father's clothes. Wearing the clothes of a man he'd killed. Wearing the clothes of his father, who he killed. He watched solemnly as the pregnant Arianne wiped the floor clean with a rag, the pristine white of Arthur's cloak now with spots of brown at its ends. He couldn't even bear to watch as the King was lifted from the floor by Jaime and Otto, undressed by Arianne and redressed by Arthur. Arianne instructed Jaime to pick up the dirty bucket of water and he threw out as quietly as he could outside. She held her hands behind her back and winced.

Rhaegar watched Arianne called for Nymella once she could take no more, and the young Toland girl cleaned the King's mouth and swore to be the one to clean him for his funeral.

They were now stood in front of the summoned Southern lords and ladies, with many pledging alliances to Rhaegar against Brandon now Aerys was dead.

The Throne room had been hastily decorated, not to lavish extents, but it looked as if a Prince was to enter and King to leave from it. Rhaegar and Arianne were stood in front of the High Septon, near the Iron Throne, with pillows at their feet. Rhaegar held a sword by his side, one that was much bigger than the one he had wielded as a Prince, he wore his dark armour with a jewelled three-headed dragon at its heart. Arianne stood next to him, wearing a dark red dress in an effort to blend in with Rhaegar. It was loose-fitting, modest and had sleeves that stopped at her elbows.

The High Septon shuffled from Julian, who Rhaegar had begged forgiveness of and asked to stand by his side, and took the Prince's new crown into his hands. He instructed Rhaegar and Arianne to kneel on the pillows provided for them, which they did – Arianne needing a little help as she could not go as far down.

He held the large crown over Rhaegar's head, it wasn't Aerys' and was one that Rhaegar had commissioned in haste. There was no way he'd wear the same crown that saw his father to insanity. This one was dark, with large red jewels placed at key points. He had a similar one for Arianne made, but hers had smaller and daintier jewels thrown around it in no particular fashion.

"May the Warrior grant him courage, may he be given the strength to protect the realm and may he be protected in these dark times. May the Smith grant him strength and that he might bear this heavy burden. And may the Crone, she that knows the fate of all men, show him the path he must walk and guide him through the dark places that lie ahead. In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Rhaegar of the House Targaryen First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. Long may he reign," he placed the crown over Rhaegar's freshly washed hair, it was growing and had been braided neatly to keep from falling in front of his face.

He felt the crown placed onto his head, and as light as it was, he couldn't help but feel it was as heavy like a rock on top of his head.

"Long may he reign!" Those in the room cried out, smiles etched on some of their faces.

The High Septon then took Arianne's crown from Penelope, "may the Mother grant her safe passage for our next Kings and Princes, may she see it fit to provide our lands with everlasting and bountiful harvests. May the Maiden grant her protection, beauty and innocence for her daughters to come, may she watch over our King as a wife would. In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Arianne of House Targaryen First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men and Lady of the Seven Kingdoms. Long may she reign," he placed the crown on her head.

"Long may she reign." The chant wasn't as loud as Rhaegar's has been, understandably.

The people had been itching for his reign – and now all he had to do was prove himself to them. This war was the perfect way to do so.

...

**Northern Camp – One week from Kingslanding**

"Why have they made it so easy for us!?" Lord Umber shouted over Hoster Tully, frustrated at the Riverland's lord for not understanding him.

"Because they are weak," Roose interjected, nodding to Brandon proudly.

They were sat around a small wooden table, map sprawled out, and small pieces of dragons and wolves and other small wooden figures spread around it. "Don't be ridiculous. The King is dead, Rhaegar is King now. He will not keep the same council his father had and there are rumours Tywin Lannister is with him. Tywin would never leave his home unless there was something – _considerably_ important in it for him. Besides, they have some forty thousand men waiting for our arrival at Kingslanding!" Jon exclaimed, not wanting to explain himself anymore. Hoster and many of those at the table nodded in understanding. "Whether they are waiting to ambush us, waiting to draw us into their homeland, they're up to something."

Either than the few refusals and petty battles against internal houses in the Riverlands and Stormlands, they had an easy time cutting down seats of many houses. Of which they found most of them empty, bar the standing guard, with no lords or families to be seen.

"They are all in Kingslanding waiting for you Brandon. We have to find a way to draw them out slowly," he insisted once more.

Brandon had already known this; he lifted his finger to his lip. "How do we do that?"

"Ask Rhaegar for a one on one, just the two of you – and we will cut him down as soon as he steps from those gates," Robert laughed, Brandon joined him. It did sound like something they could pull off.

"That is not who we are," Ned reminded them. "They would have your head before you could even blink. Rhaegar would never meet you alone. He is too -,"

"Gentle, kind, the People's Prince and so on yes we've heard," Brandon groaned rolling his eyes. Suddenly it occurred to him, he indicated Roose forward with his head as those around him spoke, Jon Arryn had even suggested attempting to sack the city, but Hoster countered that the gates would be closed as soon as they were spotted.

"Sire?" Roose's deep voice whispered as he bent down to hear Brandon.

"Can you get into the city? Unseen?" There was no one else he'd trust with this task other than Robert – who would be recognised as being a frequenter of Kingslanding in his younger days. Roose nodded back in response, their conversation was cut short by the tent flap opening and revealing Gerald Tully, the very same one they had sent as a messenger.

The young boy held his right hand close to his chest and in the other a bloodied bag.

"What is the meaning of this!" Hoster barked, standing from his seat to inspect the boy. "What happened? Who did this to you!?"

"Tywin Lannister, he said ...," he threw the bag onto the table, the dried blood rubbing off lightly onto the map. "This is what waits for you at Kingslanding," Gerald looked directly at Brandon. The young boy looked tired, thirsty and hungry.

Brandon pushed himself from the chair and opened the bag, covering his nose at the stench. It was a hand, nearly purple now, but a hand, nonetheless.

"Do you see?" Jon Umber repeated, "The _new_ King has Tywin with him, we must lure them out."

"Yes. We _see_ perfectly well," Hoster replied, ushering the boy from the room.

Brandon felt his jaw clench, he pulled Roose closer. "Ride day and night if need be. Go to Kingslanding. Now." Roose nodded, bowing as he left the room in a rush.

"We should rest, for now, we'll try and come up with something tomorrow," Ned said, sensing the discomfort in the room as the opened bag that revealed the dismembered hand lay on the table.

"I will see you at sun break my lords," Brandon said as they left the tent, bowing to him as they did. He followed after them, blowing out the candles dotted around the tent and making his way to his own tent.

A small hand wrapped around his shoulders as he closed the flap behind him, he sighed and closed his eyes, the worries of the world leaving him. "Hello, my King."

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why am I acting like this essay is going to start itself :/
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented and left a kudos!


	22. Twenty-Three

**Witch's Wail**

**Kingslanding**

Arianne had tried with all her might to stop from seeing Cersei Lannister, the girl was _everywhere!_ She'd walk the opposite way if she'd see her coming down a hallway, look anywhere but the lady when they did cross paths and sometimes outright ignore her. And now here she was, standing in front of her in the Throne Room. Rhaegar had even told her off for it when Cersei had complained to Tywin of the Queen's ignorance.

"Your grace," Cersei smiled, curtseying.

"Lady Cersei," Arianne nodded back, placing her hand possessively over Rhaegar's shoulder. He took no mind to her touches, but placed his own hand over it anyways, her touch soothing him. He was deep in whispers with Lord Mace Tyrell, who was telling him of how his men had defeated Baratheon forces.

"You are getting big," Cersei said, stepping closer to the new Queen as she did so, passing by the twelve Kingsguard as she was no threat to anyone.

Arianne felt herself biting the inside of her cheek, nodding back to Cersei. "It is what happens when one is with child."

Cersei nodded back, smirking as she passed by Jaime. They hadn't had a chance to see each other lately, with Jaime being kept busy by the demands of court. "What names are you thinking of?"

They both knew that pleasantries were all they could exchange, seeing as Arianne was the Queen and Cersei's father was the one helping them with the war. "Was it you want my lady?"

She let out a timid laugh, "I know there is an opening to be your lady-in-waiting, and I was volunteering myself is all." Cersei glanced at Rhaegar for the shortest second, but it was noticed by Arianne.

"I am fine with two, thank you."

"Yes, but you are Queen now, you need at least five to share the task of caring for you and befriending you," Cersei said, coming closer to Arianne. If she were any closer, they'd be able to feel each other's breaths.

"Do you ever tire?" Arianne asked her, moving her head to the side in question. "We are at war and you are trying your petty little games with me. Might I remind you I am your Queen."

"You need not remind me," Cersei responded, her smile flattening. "And it is my father helping you with the war."

"Get down," Arianne said, her voice dry and tired of trying to decipher what it was that Cersei truly wanted. She did as she was told, curtseying and turning around to join the wives and daughters of the Crownlands.

Mace bowed leaving Rhaegar and Arianne alone once more. Rhaegar stood from the Throne, walking a few paces to the large dragon's head that sat near the Throne. She followed him, unsure of what he was thinking.

"What's the matter?"

He ran his finger across the large teeth of the dragon skull. "Balerion," he whispered to her, the biggest of all these beautiful creatures.

Arianne winced, Rhaegar had been mentioning dragons a little too much for her liking the past week. The Throne Room was left untouched and still the nineteen dragon skulls decorated it after he was crowned.

He picked up the smallest one, "the last hatchling born on Dragonstone. As our dragons were." Rhaegar wanted badly to send Arianne to Dragonstone, so that their last dragon might receive the same good fate as his two siblings. Maester Pycelle had confirmed its sex, after apologising for not feeling that her last pregnancy was twins.

" _Someone must have been hiding."_ He had said, unsure of how else to explain his fault.

"Is that why you have chosen Baelor?" Arianne asked him, moving his silver hair from his shoulder attentively.

Rhaegar turned to her and nodded, "of course," he placed his hand on her stomach and kissed her cheek. "Oberyn has requested an audience with me, would you like to come?"

Arianne groaned, she was in no mood to discuss anything from here on out, having just stood for hours listening to the dribble that was court. "No. I did want to ask something of you however."

"Hmm."

"An allowance," she stopped him before he could protest, "to fund an orphanage, one that isn't full of starving children."

"Come back to me with an estimate of how much you need, and we'll take it from there. Alright?"

Arianne nodded back to him. She had very quickly learnt that no matter how much she wanted to be equal to Rhaegar in standing she would never be and needed his permission to do almost anything. It was frustrating but knew that he himself needed the permission of his new small council before doing anything.

He had named the Hand of the King, Tywin, strictly for wartime purposes as he had told Arianne when she told him she didn't trust Tywin. The Grand Maester stayed as Maester Pycelle. Master of Coin; Lord Qarlton Chelsted. Master of Laws; Lord Symond Staunton. Master of Ships; Lord Lucerys Velaryon. Master of Whisperers, after hours of questioning from Rhaegar on why he had said all those things to his father, was named Varys. He defended himself by stating that he was loyal to the King and the King only, whoever it may be. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard stayed Ser Gerold Hightower. And his new advisor, was Prince Oberyn Martell. Much to the dismay of both Julian and Otto, who had protested when Rhaegar read from his list who he had chosen. But he had to mend what was torn with Dorne and that was a start.

Her conversation with Cersei had left Arianne to remember the words that the witch she had taken with her to Harrenhal had said to her.

_Arianne Sand of House Stark, your heart desires every man it meets, and your body entwines them in longing lust. Three crowns you will be crowned, all of which will fall from your head in rejection. Your time as a wolf is coming to an end, the time of reminders of home is coming to an end, by the time you are married you will have a son, by the time you are married you will have a daughter, your sister will bring to your doorstep the greatest of life, your brother will be slain by a brother, your father will be slain by a father and your sister will be slain by the grasp of a brother. A tragic beginning to a life you had, though it does not now, will haunt you when you arrive at the pit of snakes. Red jewels in clear water. Keep your eyes peeled for it is your own that seek to hurt you._

Well ... she had gotten many of it right. Rickard had been killed by Aerys, she was no longer a Stark, hadn't been back to Winterfell since she had left for Harrenhal, she had by law two step-children through Rhaegar, and Lyanna had tried to have her adopt a child that was to be a Lord of a great House. Arianne scoffed as she walked back to the nursery, there was no way she was right.

Was there?

...

Oberyn sighed leisurely as Rhaegar waited for him to speak. They had been sitting in silence for some time, with Oberyn prolonging each and every one of his movements.

"Princ-,"

He held his hand up, taking a cup of wine from a cup bearer and drinking it. "This is disgusting," he cringed, spitting the wine back into the cup and handing the cup back to the girl who had given it to him. "That crown is ugly," he pointed to the one sitting on Rhaegar's head and Rhaegar rolled his eyes.

"You are the one who asked to speak privately."

They were in the council room, alone, just as Oberyn had asked. "I did." His words coated with humour as he smiled slyly to Rhaegar. "Your wife wishes to ride me, dragon."

"Oh gods," Rhaegar groaned, standing from his seat. "Will that be all?" He knew the viper and Arianne had shared eyes at Harrenhal but thought that was over with. She was after all married. But Rhaegar knew she was one for seducers, falling prey to Julian's own words before they had been married.

"No," Oberyn laughed, holding his hand out before Rhaegar left the room. He quickly remembered Doran's words in the raven he had sent a few days earlier;

_I have seen war and what it does, Dorne is happy staying Dorne. Should Rhaegar win, we would be stripped of our titles. Aerys is gone now, Elia is home and safe. We must thank for what we have. Negotiate an ongoing alliance, Rhaegar will understand it. He has already agreed to send his children to us during a war and put you on the small council. Do not overreach, Oberyn I implore you._

He was unhappy with his brother's words, but followed them nonetheless.

"A trade deal," Oberyn spoke, waiting for Rhaegar's reaction. "We send wine, gold, fruits and you pay us. Properly." He referred to the low payments they had received when Aerys was King. "You have already reformed laws on taxes to make your lords pay much more than the common people, you can buy some oranges from us."

Rhaegar let out a chuckle, "three ships a moon."

"Two, do I look crazy sending three for this shitty city."

"Three Oberyn, it is a big city and wine can be moved on the Kingsroad to other locations."

Oberyn thought about it for a moment, "three. Only after the war ends."

Rhaegar nodded back, having sat back down. "I presume that's not all."

"Visenya," Oberyn began, seeing Rhaegar visibly wince at the mention of his daughter. "Is she to marry her brother?"

"No," Rhaegar snapped, a little too quickly as it caught Oberyn off guard.

"Then promise her to the first son of Doran. Lady Mellario has a babe, almost one now, Prince Quentyn Martell."

Rhaegar shook his head, "No. She will not marry someone with no titles." He knew far too well that the heir was Princess Arianne Martell and refused to promise Visenya to someone who was not of similar rank to her. "Valerion will ward there when he is grown, as a blood-debt for the annulment of marriage with Elia."

"And the succession?" Oberyn had to bring up what they were both thinking of in the back of their heads. "Aegon or Valerion, who will come first?"

"Valerion."

"And what of your first, true son?"

"He is to be the Prince of Dragonstone. His sons after will receive the title," Rhaegar said.

"And are these your words," he pouted his lips slightly as he played with the pen in front of him, "or Arianne's? Or are they what your prophecy has told you to do?"

Rhaegar sat back in his chair, "Oberyn. There can only be three dragons, and they must be truly Targaryen. Visenya and Valerion are much closer to being true dragons than Aegon and Rhaenys. This proceeds titles and lands."

The second Prince of Dorne sent Rhaegar a pitying look and he stood from his seat. "Valerion will ward with us when he turns seven until his ten and six name day." He made for the door, but before he did, he placed his hand on Rhaegar's arm. "Don't let what some dreaming Maester wrote years ago be the death of you Rhaegar. Think properly about the succession, it is wise to choose now before your boys are grown and war for the title of King."

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me writing 5 chapters in 1 day with an essay due in 24 hrs that I have not started!
> 
> Should I post them all in one go ... hmmm?


	23. Twenty-Four

**Children**

**Kingslanding**

_She did not want to let go of the crying Visenya, but the babe was pried from her hands by Nymella. "It's alright," Nymella told her, passing Visenya onto a Martell guard as they clambered onto the boat that had come to take them onto the ship. "You could come with us, save us all the heartache."_

" _I can't leave," Arianne cried, wiping the tears from her eyes as she kissed Valerion goodbye. The young Prince was in his father's hands and had been passed onto another guard. "Don't let them out of your sight Nymella." Valerion, who was not happy about the situation, scrunched his hands together and opened them, indicating he wanted to be returned to his father._

_Nymella nodded in response._

" _And don't spat in front of them," she laughed lightly, Nymella and Penelope had never been good friends, hopefully, this would bring them closer together._

" _And if you pass by the Ladybright fleet, tell them to hurry up!" Oberyn piped up._

_He was waiting for his bannermen to return with soldiers that had not made it the first time around, of them included Lord Ander Ladybright – Arianne having found out the mysterious man who had been a part of her and Rhaegar's bedding ceremony. He had also accompanied them down to the harbour with complaints of boredom._

" _You would be much safer in Dorne. Besides you could visit Ashara in Starfall and see your birthplace," Rhaegar reminded her, as he had been reminding her as the days closed in on the twin's departure date._

" _I am only sending them on your account, they would be safe here. I know we will win this war," Arianne replied, hugging Nymella and Penelope goodbye as they climbed onto the boat and took each child from the guards._

" _May the Mother watch over Prince Valerion and Princess Visenya in their journey to Dorne and keep them safe as they are protected from these dark times. May they know their mothers' everlasting love and their father's protection," the High Septon, who had joined them to the docks, prayed as he watched the boat was rowed away._

_Oberyn rolled his eyes, turning around to leave._

_Arianne had asked for the High Septon to come and bless their departure, not wanting to take any chances when it came to her children. She'd miss them terribly, but Rhaegar had shown no signs of letting them stay. He had, just by a scratch let her stay._

_She turned to Rhaegar, eyes bloodshot. "Are you satisfied?"_

_He sent her a disapproving look, "not entirely," he pointed to her, "you were supposed to go with them." She ignored his words, binding her hands together as she followed Oberyn and Kingsguard back into the Keep. "Why are you acting like I won't miss them as well?" Rhaegar asked her, skipping his steps a little to catch up with her._

" _You have shipped them away from me. They would have been safer here."_

" _I will gently remind you, Arianne," he stopped her with his hand on hers, "they are royalty. Not common children who can skip about in the creeks of the forest. They have duties, as you and I do. And they are important commodities come wartime."_

" _Right, it's so refreshing knowing they are sheep and you their shepherd."_

_She really was insufferable sometimes. Why could she not understand that he was doing what he was doing to keep them safe? If there was a chance the city fell, they would be the first ones Brandon's men would come for._

The Northern party had been spotted at least a few days from Kingslanding and all the gates to the city had been closed _._ With the exception of one small one that was guarded and checked to see who left and came. Ander Ladybright had returned with two fleets of Ladybright men, Arianne got a better look at the man that was Lord Ander.

"Your grace," the light-haired man smiled, kissing her hand and keeping his lips lingering for the shortest moment. She nodded back at the Lord, mesmerised by his pale blue eyes and a deep scar that went from eye to jaw on his right cheek.

They were stood in the Throne Room welcoming those who had arrived, the sparkle of armour dazzling the room as if it were a large jewel pot. Colours of gold, silver, grey and black – with banners situated at every given corner.

"Lady Olenna," Arianne smiled at the approaching woman. "I'm afraid I did not get a chance to wish my condolences for Mimi."

Olenna nodded back to Arianne, she waved her hand dismissively. "Your flowers were condolence enough," Olenna noted. "Look at you. From bastard to queen. The impossible made possible."

"Yes, well it's more like blind luck."

"I'm not sure I'd call you lucky," Olenna said, looking at Arianne with sympathetic eyes. "You are all alone in this world child. Except for him. Your _brother_."

 _Thanks for reminding me,_ Arianne thought to herself, looking to Rhaegar. "I have my children and many friends."

"Yes. Hold onto them. Your children, these people are not your friends. Gods what could Mace possibly have left to say now," Olenna threw her head back in frustration, moving to shoo her son from embarrassing their House any further.

A silence fell in the room as Rhaegar stood by the Throne, waiting to address the newly arrived guests, as well as those who had been waiting for moons with them. Arianne followed him to the Throne, standing by his side as she had done for days before. Even though the swelling of her feet she had stood by him, Rhaegar would not forget that. "My lords and ladies. Thank you for your loyalty. I know how ... attractive rebelling can be at times. But still, you have answered our calls, you have offered your homes to the rebels and pledged fealty to me. It is not a gift I take lightly." There was light clapping, "I swear to return your cities, villages and castles to you once we have crushed and starved the rebels, the King of the North will run with his tail between his legs. The North will see the Crown's new King and his capabilities. His mercilessness, if they wish to see it."

There was a response of _yes's_ and nods.

Rhaegar turned to Oberyn and passed him a piece of parchment, "look at how the King in the North wishes to repay our years of friendship." Oberyn passed the parchment along, and the gasps and whispers around the room grew.

It eventually returned to Rhaegar who passed it to Arianne, it was another of Brandon's creative letters. This time, the parchment showed a crowned direwolf, eating three small dragons at its feet. Beneath the dragons were initials, V.T, V.T and the last was left empty, as he did not know the name of their babe that was not born yet. She threw the parchment to the ground in disgust, wondering why Brandon had turned so violent and vindictive.

"Now do you see our enemy? An enemy that wishes death on babes born and unborn," he placed his hand on Arianne's stomach.

She looked to the crowd, who all looked back at her in pity. Of course, they would.

" _How did she live with such monsters?"_

" _Her own foster-brother?"_

She could not take the whispers or cries any longer, so she moved Rhaegar's hand away and left the room through the door nearest to the Throne. Jaime's footsteps close behind hers.

...

That night, as Rhaegar lay in the quiet room next to his wife, he tossed and turned. Dreaming of three people, a woman and two men, two white haired beauties and one with black hair following after them, riding dragons. The dragons were not as big as what he had known Balerion the Black Dread to be, but they were big enough that the trees gushed from the wind that came from their wings.

_"Hello father," a deep voice came from behind him. Rhaegar turned, finding himself on the rocky land of Dragonstone. He frowned, these were his children? They seemed to not know his existence anymore as they marched up the steps of Dragonstone, the flying free above them. As they passed him by, Rhaegar tried to reach out to them._

_The woman, who had short silver hair, held onto the boy with silver hair's hand, wearing a woollen black dress and leather pants. The boy smiled at her, he looked just as Rhaegar had, so much so Rhaegar had thought it was himself at first. The black-haired one trailed behind them, his face lightly tan and his brows etched in a frown._

_What were they doing?_

_What was going on?_

_"Dig it all!" The voice of the woman yelled, she sounded just as Arianne had sounded only louder ... and meaner. She and Rhaegar watched the grounds of Dragonstone Island were dug relentlessly. He did not understand, nor know what was going on but watched from an omnipresent view as the three continued about their day._

_The silver haired man turned, looking directly at Rhaegar. "I am no King father."_

_Before he could get a better look at him, he was rooted from his position on the rocks that led to the castle and a place he had never seen before._

_"Hello," the sweet voice of Arianne rang around him. Rhaegar looked around, trying to find her. "Have you seen our children? Your dragons?" The voice asked him. Rhaegar covered his eyes with his hand, trying to get a better view above him. He could not speak so he nodded. "Aren't they beautiful?" He nodded once more._

_He was back on Dragonstone's rocks in a flash, watching as a dragon that flew above shook its head and rested. His dream was playing games with him. Moving Rhaegar from here to there without a thought for his mind._

_He was now in the Keep, the gardens to be exact. "We mustn't Aegon, you know we can't." It was the same voice as he had heard before._

_"I do not care what people say if that's what you're worried about Vi," he presumed that came from Aegon, his grown son, he looked drastically different to who he guessed was Valerion. Bigger, stronger, as a warrior would look._

_For now, it seemed the only child he was yet to see was Rhaenys._

_He was taken from his worldly thoughts and returned to his dream, where he was now stood close to the two that identified each other as Aegon and Visenya. Aegon pulled her closer, moving her darker silver hair from her neck and kissed her. Rhaegar tried to prey them apart, angered with what he was seeing. They kissed as if lovers did, not a care in the world. He didn't know whether to call it passion or lust or wanting something you could not have. His hands fell through their bodies, so all he could do was watch helplessly. He tried to call out for them to stop, but his lips would not move._

_"You cannot separate them, I have tried," it was Arianne again. She was stood by the balcony of the garden. Her favourite spot._ _Rhaegar turned from the entiwned couple, moving closer to her. Arianne smiled, taking his hand in hers. "Show me how a dragon flies." She pushed him, Rhaegar stumbled backwards, and fell for what seemed like eternity._

His eyes opened and he let out deep gasps, holding onto his chest as if what he had seen had pained him. And Arianne, who had been sleeping quietly beside him jolted awake, patting his back.

"What, what is it?"

He ignored her question, taking her hand as he kept breathing in and out.

So the next day, as the small council meeting ended, Rhaegar called for Oberyn to stay back a little.

"After the war, Aegon is to take over Valerion as first in line," Rhaegar blurted out. If the succession did not matter, if his dragons had a purpose greater than titles and land, they would not need _titles and land._ Besides, Valerion had told him personally he was not set to be a King.

"Why the change of heart?" Oberyn asked him, wondering what had changed his mind so quickly.

"I had a dream," Rhaegar responded honestly. "I saw my children, all but Rhaenys."

 _A dream._ Oberyn tutted, he would not probe any further though. He swung his feet from the table and jumped up. "You have saved yourself a lot of grief." Now to write to Doran and Elia.

**Northern Party – Two Days from Kingslanding**

"We have bided our time!"

"Aye!"

"Waited, wondering if our kingdom will be cared for!"

"Aye!"

"Travelled through snow, dirt and shit!

"Aye!" There was a chorus of laughter.

"My father was your Lord, killed in cold blood. Killed for obeying orders, are we to wait and see what happens to those who don't follow as they are told!?"

"No!"

"Are we to wait for Rhaegar's own madness to grow, until his son and his son after!?"

"No!"

"Then we will kill the cunts, their whores, we will take back the North for what it always was, always will be!"

"To the King in the North!" There was a silence as those in the large tent drank ale from their large cups.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited


	24. Twenty-Five

**Brandon's Demands**

**Kingslanding**

"The North to be taken away from the Seven Kingdoms, after which we shall live as we once had lived, as Kings in the North – from this day for the rest of our days. Meet this demand and I will call off my men," Tywin readout.

Rhaegar looked down from the city's battlements into the dark forest in front of them. They were awaiting Brandon's arrival, and judging by the sounds of shouts and chants that neared them – they were close. He held on the rampart, his hands growing sweaty and heart beating fast.

It suddenly dawned on him, watching as the archer's readied their crossbows, some with a bow and arrows strapped to their backs, that he held the weight of many Houses on his shoulders. Brandon hadn't laid siege to many castles, there wasn't any to take a hold of that were important, but there would need to be some grovelling done in the form of gold and titles, this Rhaegar knew.

 _What if I don't win?_ He repeated in his head, his helm making him feel as if the world was closing in on him. He had many people to answer to if he made it out alive, many people he did not want to answer.

His mind began to race. What would happen should anyone find out of his killing his father? He was not a murderer and wished to dispose of him _after_ the war. He wanted to bring him from the Throne _slowly_. He was a Kinslayer, something taught to every child as being a vile act. And here he stood, his father's blood on his hands–

Rhaegar couldn't take it anymore, he lifted his helm and bent over the ramp to retch what little dinner he had eaten a few hours ago.

"Ignore it," Tywin said, unsure why the young King was feeling so sickly. Sure, he was never one to fight or lust for war but there was no reason to worry. "They will not make it past these gates, they will not last a moon waiting for them to open either."

Rhaegar squinted his eyes, looking down at the men who had run out in front of the trees. Their dark clothing making their numbers hard to count, but it had to be below five thousand. Some marched, ladders on top of their heads as they slowly made their way to the gate. What was Brandon up to? Their party _had_ been spotted making its way to Kingslanding, this couldn't be it. There were thousands of them. "If it is a butchering, he wants I can give it to him." He pushed past Tywin and those who had surrounded him to watch those below them fight. He was their King for god's sake, what was cowering on the walls going to do for him.

"Your grace," Tywin called after him.

Rhaegar ignored him, jumping from the steps and onto the sandy muddy floors of Kingslanding. He struggled passed those awaiting by the gates quietly and tapped who he knew was Julian on the back. The Tyrell, in his golden armour, turned and was surprised to see his friend, who wore his signature black armour, behind him.

"What are you doing!?"

Julian turned back around, the cries of the Northern rebels had come right at their doorsteps, with hammers and swords hacking into the gates and the thuds of ladders being lifted.

...

Arianne could not bear the stress and worry anymore. She stood from the prayer circle that had she had formed, breaking away from Alyse's hands, and went to sit by a secluded area of the cellar room.

It was quiet, so very quiet for hours and she had taken up to pacing the room as a way to manage her nerves. Without Nymella nor Penelope there, she had no one to lean-to, other than Olenna, who seemed to drown herself in wine.

There was two Kingsguard in the room, Ser Barristan and Ser Darry, who looked as bored as children in a Sept. Arianne had spoken to them both for some time to try and forget about the fact that Rhaegar was outside, meaning to fight Brandon.

_What if Brandon is sacking the city and he finds us?_

_What if Rhaegar has died?_

_What if Brandon has managed to get over the gates._

"Your grace," it was Olenna. She called her from the pillows she was sitting on. "Come sit, you are tiring your babe." Arianne went to sit down on a chair and huffed uncomfortably. "Lemon cake?"

She looked down to her thighs, she had gained a considerable amount of weight thanks to twins and now Baelor. Arianne shrugged, her last thought was not going to be whether or not she could eat a lemon cake. She took one from the tray in front of Olenna. "Thank you."

Olenna waved her arm and laughed, "the last time I offered you lemon cakes you are a scrawny little girl in a _ridiculous_ coat. Do you ever wish you had come to ward with me?"

Arianne did sometimes wonder what would have happened had she never been introduced to Aerys. What if she had accepted Olenna's proposal? Well ... Rickard would never have let her; she'd have been back in Winterfell and with the gates closed behind her. She'd have had to make friends with Catelyn Tully now Stark. She'd have had to live without Lyanna or Ned. Would she have become a Septa? "My father would have never let me, he wanted me to stay in Winter-," she stopped, her quick words getting the best of her. Arianne blinked down, feeling her eyes water.

Olenna nodded in understanding, holding her cup out for more wine. "Yes. He took something from us all before he died. I prayed he died a brutal death when he killed my niece – but no ... the gods saw fit to take him peacefully."

 _If only you knew,_ Arianne thought to herself.

There was thumping at the door, and the two Kingsguard tasked with protecting the women and children in the cellar stood up and drew their swords.

"Name yourself!" Barristan shouted, scaring a babe, it began to cry.

"Prince Oberyn," the thick accent of Oberyn was muffled by the steel door.

Ser Barristan opened it, revealing Oberyn. His hair was matted, clothes were brown, and his face was covered in dirt and blood. Arianne stood from her seat in the corner, moving past the two knights and nodded to Oberyn.

"We have won. There was only five thousand of them, Rhaegar was expecting more, but the Northern King is playing tricks on him," Oberyn panted, looking down at Arianne.

Her purple eyes blinked up at him, "he is okay?" Oberyn nodded once, and she felt herself breathe properly for the first time that entire day.

She took Oberyn's hand. "My lady's. We are safe, thanks to our courageous warriors," she touched his cheek. He felt the blood rushing around his body grow hot at her touch and wanted to kiss her – but knew not to be so outright around others. The women behind her sighed and exclaimed in joy. Arianne moved Oberyn from the door and watched as they rushed from it. "Thank you Oberyn. For everything."

 _Thank you._ It would have to do.

Arianne let his hand go and followed after them. They had walked into the Throne Room, where Rhaegar, who looked very similar to Oberyn, stood in the middle of. At the sight of his wife, he left his conversation with Tywin and Mace, bringing her into a tight hug and kissing her. She did not care that he smelt of sweat and blood, that his own skin rubbed off dirt onto hers, that his armour was painted red with the blood of others, she just cared that he was back right where he should be – in her arms.

...

**Northern Camp**

"And our loses?" Brandon asked Ned, his younger brother had come back from their attempt to break down one of the gates into the city.

"Some one thousand. The gate doesn't come down Brandon," Ned said, wiping the sweat from his brow. "They expected more of us, that or they wanted to show off how many men they had. They are good fighters but tire easily and some are very young."

"So, they have numbers, we have strength," Brandon nodded, smiling to himself. "And Rhaegar. Did he fight?"

His brother sighed, "yes. I didn't get to see him, but he was there."

Robert huffed, "I told you, you should've gone."

"No, he was right to stay," Jon Arryn said. "We can keep sending men to tire them out."

"We lost a thousand to a hundred," Ned said, shocked that Jon would even suggest such a thing. "There is no _tiring them._ We have to get them from the Keep."

They all looked to Brandon, expecting him to add an answer. Brandon stood from his seat, patted Ned on the back fixed his pelt coat. "I have a solution, go rest brother. It has been a long day for you I'm sure." Ned left the tent, wanting to wash and sleep, just as Brandon had suggested.

"We can send in a few hundred men, bring the gates down from inside," Hoster chimed.

"Lord Tully you are just going to have to trust I have it sorted," Brandon repeated, following his brother from the tent.

"We have been waiting for moons, your grace!" Hoster's voice followed him.

He did have it sorted. They were well hidden, having decided to send a small garrison of men in their name as a way to throw the Crown from their seats. They were a day's ride away from Kingslanding, well behind the Kingswood's and ready to take on what Brandon knew would be Rhaegar at his angriest.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> unedited


	25. Twenty-Six

**Fallen**

** Kingslanding **

"Stay," Oberyn smiled, not wanting her to leave for her first walk in months.

Arianne rolled her eyes, shaking her hand free of Oberyn's grasp. "Stop it." They were sat in her new rooms, eating lunch, as they had done for many days. He was a comfort to her, one that was not afforded now with Nymella and Penelope gone. Yes, she heard from them here and then but otherwise, she was alone. She missed her children and would sometimes sit in the nursery like an insane person, just looking at their cribs and clothes that had been left behind. She really was alone, and Rhaegar had made sure to remind her of the fact, not leaving his council for days on end.

She had no idea what they could be discussing but discuss they did. He had also fallen into some sort of depressive episode having returned from the battle and as much as Arianne tried, she couldn't seem to pull him from it. He would dream horrid dreams, waking him up in a sweat, and waking her in turn.

" _Let him write songs and play his harp, come and dine with me_." Oberyn had told her.

Oberyn took her hand back and leading her around the table. "No, you are here for a reason."

"Because you are my last friend right now," Arianne reminded him. Or perhaps she had reminded herself. He stood from his seat. "Oberyn," she wanted her voice to come out assertive, but it did not.

"Rhaegar has not touched you in seven moons, am I correct?" She blushed at his words and he kissed her cheek. "What a pity, that is not as a husband should be. If only you had listened to me and came to Dorne. We wouldn't be in this mess." He moved her long hair from her neck and kissed it. "Can you imagine ... waiting a year. Me, Prince Oberyn Martell, waiting a _year_ for one woman," _that accent_.

 _Stop it now!_ Arianne quickly came to her senses and pushed herself from his hands. "I'm married now Oberyn and I love Rhaegar."

"And your love, it cannot be shared?" Oberyn quizzed, turning his head slightly to the side.

"I am carrying his child," Arianne reminded him, Oberyn looked away from her. He licked his lips. "We will talk later," his eyes flashed to her own and he raised his brow, smiling.

 _I am carrying his child and he killed for me. He sinned for me._ She thought to herself. _He made himself a Kinslayer, out of devotion to me._

"Come with me to Dorne when you have given birth."

"And my children?"

Oberyn shrugged back at her, "your sons will be second and third sons. It's Dragonstone or Dorne. I know which one sounds more exciting to me."

Arianne clenched her fists, Rhaegar had told her of his plan to place Aegon back first-in-line and she could fight it no more. About how his dreams had told him to do so, so she listened and agreed, what more could she do at that point? She was lucky to have princes and princesses for children. She couldn't afford to be proud.

"My sons have-,"

"A destiny greater than King's?" Oberyn neared her, his eyes, which had been coated with black liner staring daggers into her own. "I don't know who manipulates who more in your marriage. You, Rhaegar, the prophecy or his dreams. Don't tell me you are starting to believe it as well?" He tilted her chin up so she could look at him better. Arianne scoffed pushing his hand away. Oberyn kissed her, this one much slower and sweeter than the one he had placed on her lips many days ago. "Dorne. When the war is over."

She looked out of the balcony, noticed the sun was setting and not wanting to disappoint the Septa's of the orphanage by not showing up, backed away from him. "We'll talk later." She repeated, leaving the room.

...

It had been a moon since the battle outside of Kingslanding's gates and with Tywin assuring Rhaegar the Northern party was almost ready to throw their swords to the ground, he had eased up on Arianne's movements. That meant that Brandon was out there somewhere, having spent two moons silently waiting. Tywin had convinced Rhaegar to wait it out, no matter how badly the both wanted to storm the party.

She was now almost nine moons pregnant and laughed to herself as she was led to the small orphanage a little way outside of the Keep's gates. Baelor was convinced at the start of war, and would hopefully, be born at the end of the war. What a title he would have.

Arianne moved as fast as her legs could take her, not wanting to believe that she was starting to seriously consider Oberyn as a lover.

When she arrived at the orphanage, she spent some time with the Septa's that took care of the orphanage, writing down supplies they needed for the children and how often they needed them.

"And skills?"

"Skills your grace?" The Septa had asked her, frowning at Arianne's words.

"Well surly there must come a time when the children are old enough to leave on their own. How do they care for themselves if they are not educated on trades?" Arianne asked her.

The Septa looked to the floor nervously, "many do not survive an orphanage your grace. Starvation and illness find breeding grounds in their weak little bodies."

Arianne looked down at the children who ran about the humble room they called home. She scribbled something down on her parchment, closing the lid to her ink bottle and placing it back into the bag she had brought along with her.

"I will speak to his grace and shall see to you are _properly_ provided for Septa Morgana."

The Septa smiled, curtseying awkwardly. "Thank you, your grace. Would you like to leave through the back doors?"

"Yes please," Arianne smiled at her, putting her bag over her shoulder. "I will wait for Ser Jaime by the door, will you call him? I'm afraid my feet are a little tired from the trip."

"Of course," she bowed and left Arianne to wave goodbye to the children and show herself out of the orphanage through its back door. She waited for Jaime, who seemed to be taking his time, and sat down one the sandy step. It was awfully quiet this way, she presumed it was so because of how _strong_ the smell of urine and shit was. Maybe it wasn't favoured as a walkway by the city dwellers.

She sighed, placing her hands behind her and sitting comfortably. It must have only been seconds, but to her tired back and legs, it seemed like hours.

"Have you been waiting long?"

"Lord Bolton?" Arianne looked up to the pale face of Roose Bolton and covered her eyes as the setting sun shone and hit them directly. "What are you doing here?" It very quickly dawned on her that the Bolton's were her brother's bannermen and he should not have even been within the city. She stood from the steps, and back into the door that was closed behind her. "Where is Jaime?"

Roose shrugged, "how am I supposed to know?" He knew very well actually. Jaime was standing in front of the orphanage, like the fool he was. The Septa, who was talking to Arianne never made it to the front door, unfortunately. "You know people should really take to locking their doors. It's amazing how easy it was to just walk in and kill that Septa." Roose sighed, looking down at her. Arianne saw a deranged gleamier in his eye and tried to push past him, but he was too quick, or she was too slow, and he had stopped her. There was a scream from inside the orphanage, "they found her. We should leave before they find us," he said, taking her by her wrist and dragging her from the steps, and in the commotion, she dropped her bag.

"Let go of me!" Arianne shouted, clawing at his hand with her free one.

"Stop it," Roose winced, slapping her hand away. He saw the horse that had carried him into Kingslanding waiting for him at the end of the road and knew she would put up a fight all the way.

Arianne opened her mouth to scream for Jaime, or for anyone at that, but was stopped by Roose's hand, that met her cheek forcefully. Her ear began to ring, she had never been slapped with such force. She felt her body jolt back, "get on the horse, now."

She spat at him; how dare he speak to her like that?

Roose took her neck in his hands, pushed her up a stone wall and squeezed tightly. Arianne tried to get his hands from her, she tried to kick, shout out, pull his hair, scratch at his face until eventually, her eyes closed, and the world went black. He lifted her onto his horse, holding her as he pulled himself up and sat behind her.

Jaime heard a scream from the orphanage, rushing inside to see what had caused it. It was a Septa; the older woman lay in a pool of her own blood just steps away from the door. There was no time to think, he rushed around the orphanage, looking irrational but could not find her anywhere.

"She left by the back door, Ser," the voice of another Septa piped, she was bent down over the dead body.

He did not speak and ran past the frightened children to the door that led outside. Pushing it open, Jaime's heart sunk to his stomach. There lay the bag that Arianne had carried to the orphanage, he ran as fast as his feet could take him. First to the left and then the right, but there was no sign of anyone.

"Arianne!" He repeated, running through the streets of Kingslanding. "Have you seen a woman, a pregnant woman!?" He asked anyone who would answer, they shook their heads at him, scared of the Knight donned in gold.

How was he going to explain to Rhaegar that he had lost his wife?

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop!  
> unedited


	26. Twenty-Seven

**Unravel**

**Kingslanding**

Jaime put off returning to the Keep for as long as he could have, he was sure he had scoured the city from top to bottom but there was no sign of her.

"What do you mean she vanished!?" Rhaegar had roared at him, trying his best to keep his composure as Jaime presented him with the unfortunate information. He felt all hope in his world dwindle, the gods had taken to punishing him. This was his punishment for being a Kinslayer. He would never free himself from the curse he had brought on himself.

Jaime hung his head; his own father shook his head in disappointment. "Have the City Watch check all the gates that were open today. Close them for now and question the guards."

There had been one guard who confessed to letting out a woman who was with child and man on horseback. He was brought back to the Keep, where Tywin was questioning him in the Throne Room.

"The man, what did he look like?"

"Pale. Black hair, milord."

"Was he slim, fat, tall, short?" Tywin asked, unsure of who he could be. But then again, he did not know the Northern lords that well.

"Slim and tall. He said she was his wife, and she got tired, so she was sleeping."

"What did she look like?"

The guard stood from one foot to another, "with child?"

"Yes, you imbecile she was _with child._ Her hair colour, build, shape?" He rolled his eyes, how the smallfolk got by day to day with brains the sizes of peas, he did not know.

"She had black hair, long ... I-I didn't get to see her very well milord," the guard replied. He stood in silence, trying to come up with something else to identify her, "she wore a dark red dress! It looked very expensive."

"That was her," Jaime said, he had remembered very well the colour of her dress. Unless there was another dark-haired, fine red dress-wearing, with child-woman in the city.

"Alright, take him from the Keep," Tywin instructed. The guard bowed his head and followed as he was led from the royal castle. "It is most likely the rebels took her, your grace." He turned to Rhaegar, who was sitting on the Throne.

Rhaegar felt his stomach sink for the tenth time that hour. "I told her to go to Dorne. I should've forced her onto that ship myself." He stood from the Throne. "I'm bringing her back."

"She is a hostage now; you must negotiate with Brandon if you wish to do so. We have no reason to believe he will be merciful," Tywin interjected. "Now is not the time to act in haste. Wait for him to tell you that he has her. For all we know, this might be an overzealous bandit trying to get some gold from you.

"No," he could not bear the thought of _negotiating_ while Arianne sat in a camp with their enemies. She was definitely with Brandon. "That is my son she holds inside of her. The time for speaking is over. We have more men than they do. I am ordering all troops to the gates as soon as they can be ready."

Tywin bit the inside of his cheek, "it will take us two days to get to where they are. They might have set traps, call them elsewhere." There had been a watcher who had told them the Northern party had set camp a day's ride from Kingslanding.

"They will not move!" Rhaegar snapped back, looking at the older man who stood at the bottom of the steps with his hands behind his back. "It can take as long as it will take. The more time we waste talking, the more time Brandon has to kill her. Send a search party and sound the call, Lord Twyin."

He nodded back in response, stepping from the Throne. "You idiot," he muttered to Jaime, marching from the Throne Room in a fit of anger.

Arthur, who had been stood around the Throne with the other ten Kingsguard sent a disapproving look Jaime's way, following behind Rhaegar as he left the Throne room as well. How could of Jaime let slip through the cracks the _one_ thing he was tasked with.

"Let me go on the search party, please Rhaegar," Arthur had said once they had left the Throne Room.

Rhaegar shook his head, "call for my squires, tell them to bring my armour," he told a servant who was bent over the newly scrubbed floors.

"Yes, your grace," she squeaked, throwing her rag to the floor and rushing off.

"I am not sending the best fighter in the realm on a search party. I want you to be with me, Arthur. By my side as I finally end this war."

Arthur could not refuse nor argue, so he simply nodded – no matter how badly he wanted to go and look for his sister, a King's orders were a King's orders.

...

There was a ringing in her ears, and as her eyes opened, she was reminded this was not a nightmare. Arianne tried to stand from the floor, but her hands and feet were bound. Her neck throbbed in pain and her body cried out for water.

She looked around, it was dark outside and there was muffled shouting from all sides of the forest she had been left in. Arianne tried to call out, but her mouth was quickly covered by a dirty cloth.

"Shh," Roose instructed her, raising his finger to his lips, waiting silently as the calls and barks of dogs faded back into the woods. He left the cloth tied around her mouth and sighed, laying back down on the floor as he had been doing before being awoken by the sounds of a search party. There was little chance they'd find them, with Roose having practically grown up hiding scents and hiding people in very similar situations.

Arianne let out a cry, uncomfortable and in pain from the ropes on her hand. She tried to say something, but the cloth stopped her words and turned them into a tune.

Roose laughed, "you have always been a talker."

"My babe!" She tried to call out.

"What?" Roose pouted, indicating to her stomach. "I won't hurt you if that's what you're worried about. Or your babe. Now go back to sleep, we have an exciting day ahead of us come morning."

But she could not sleep, all night she watched Roose toss and turn, he lay peacefully on the bed of leaves beneath him. She tried futilely to wriggle from the ropes on her bands, to shake the ones from her feet free, or even to move the cloth on her lips away, but when she felt them grow tighter, she stopped. Arianne could do none of those, so instead, she watched as the embers of the small fire Roose had started grew dark, as animals scurried around, as the horse tied to the tree sat comfortably on the floor and rested its head and finally as the sun rose.

Roose awakened and as he went to put her back on top of the horse, he let out a small chuckle at her red hands and feet. "Aren't they glorious? The knots get tighter the more you struggle." Arianne, who could not respond, tapped the horse with her feet as a means to annoy it, but when Roose had lifted himself and sat behind her she stopped. There truly was no way of getting away.

They rode for what seemed like hours. The forest was silent then, Arianne hoped that didn't mean the search party had ended. Arianne hoped Rhaegar was out there, cutting down every tree in hopes of finding her. She hoped and hoped but even that didn't work. She felt a kick on her stomach, _Baelor,_ he was probably annoyed at the uncomfortable position she was sat it.

That or he was hungry, just as she was.

He kept kicking, wanting his annoyance to be made _very_ clear. Arianne huffed in pain, what was wrong with him?

As the sunset, Arianne wondered if they were to take another break. Was Roose planning on taking her back to the North? If so, she'd starve at this rate.

Arianne's ears perked as voices came, she tried to scream out but stopped when Roose laughed again. It seemed like he took pleasure in watching her struggle.

"What would the King in the North say if he saw his bannermen's son fucking the hostage he personally asked him to bring?" Roose whispered behind her, taking a cold hand off the reigns. "You know," he lifted her dress slightly and placed his hand between her legs, "my father was willing to ask for your hand for me. Do you think Rickard Stark would have ever let that happen?"

Her muffled words came out a little clearer, "fuck you!"

Roose threw his head back, "and you will get your chance. Brandon has promised me the gift of a new wife once this war is over. Once he kills Rhaegar. How do you think you will fare back in the North?" Arianne ignored him and his hands, wanting the horse to speed up. Roose moved his hand and fixed her dress as they approached the campsite.

Arianne had never seen a war camp, it was full of men; drinking, eating, practising, sharpening their weapons. A silence fell on the camp as they passed by tents and makeshifts beds on the floor.

Roose stopped when they reached the biggest tent, jumping from his horse and bringing Arianne down after him. She tried to kick him, and there was light laughter from those around them.

"Your grace!" Roose called out, taking her by her arm roughly and pushing her towards the tent.

Arianne blinked up, the chilly air hitting her cheeks properly now. There, stood Brandon Stark. The new King of the North. He wore a crown made from wood and a coat so big it reminded her of Rickard's. He looked down at her, almost surprised that Roose had done what he needed to do.

It seemed many of the lords, most of which Arianne recognised, had stepped from wherever they had been hiding to get a better look at what was causing an eery silence. Brandon did not speak a word to her, merely turning her around her arms and shaking her shoulders. She felt dizzy. Almost as if she were about to faint.

"As I told you, my lords!" He cried out, laughter and cheers coming from around the camp. "Now we wait for the dragon to come to us, so we can slay him. Babe and all!"

Arianne tried to keep from crying, but could not help it, in the crowd, she recognised the faces of Ned and Lyanna – who looked just as surprised as everyone else.

She felt Baelor kick her stomach repeatedly as if he knew those around him were a threat. As if he to say I can fight back. She felt her eyes roll to the back of her head and fell in a slump into Brandon's hands.

"Bring the cage!" Brandon called out.

A wooden cage was unstrapped from a carriage and placed in front of Brandon's tent. "Put her in the cage, we'll write to Rhaegar that you have arrived," Brandon told Roose, passing the fainted Arianne to Roose – who did as he was told. Before leaving the small cage, he pulled a dagger from his pocket and cut loose the rope on her hands, feet and cloth around her mouth. He then walked out from it, locking it tightly.

"You there," he called out to a woman who held a basket to her hips. She stopped, waiting for his horse to be taken away before approaching him. "Some food and water ... for her as well."

She looked down at the new arrival. The Queen did not look at Brandon had told tales of; she did not look like a woman who could give birth to dragons. She just looked with child and tired.

"Now!" Roose scoffed annoyed at her stalling. She nodded and rushed into the makeshift kitchen.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oop x2!  
> unedited


	27. BREAKING NEWS!

** ACTUAL BREAK and LEARNING TO LOVE: **

Venting because this is what I do best and I feel like no one will read I just need to get this off my chest to public domain. Girl this is my diary at this point let me tell you what's on my mindddd.

I was reading reviews from the old fic, Lust and Fire, and I realised I need to actually take a break now. I'm driven by ego and I don't like it. I keep going onto the Game of Thrones work and comparing why mine doesn't have as many reviews, likes, follows as it did. I need to get in tune with myself and find happiness with what I already have – I'm actually very proud with what I achieved and need to get my head out of the sand. So will actually stick to my word now and leave for around two weeks, I'll write the chapters I just won't post them. During I will be doing heavy updating and revising.

This is my first ever actual fanfic; I can't believe it started in 2017! Craziness. I'm very proud of myself and where I've gotten, even if it's taken three years to put on my big girl boots.

I just want to thank everyone and wish you all happiness and health – especially now when the world is at a standstill.

I hope you are all doing okay, are connecting with friends and family, connecting with your true self – whatever that may mean for yourself, and taking care of yourself physically and mentally. Mental health is something very raw and new to me as I have been battling depression and PTSD for some time now and I'm not going to keep it in anymore – even if who I'm telling it to don't know me. We are all human, we struggle but our flaws are our strong points.

Reach out (I know it's hard) when you need help, heck message me if you'd like a stranger to talk to or bitch to, I will happily listen.

I'm taking the time to truly understand life isn't about how LOUD the applause is but who is clapping. I've had some amazing people encouraging me and pushing me along the way, y'all are really amazing and I thank you so much. Even the smallest thing will literally make my day and it is so uplifting you don't even know.

Let's take care of ourselves and each other, the world is showing us we need to start doing so. I will now get a diary, so I stop venting to you guys hehe. Happy reading (I'll be on here reading as well, some of you girlies are amazing writers like dang okay miss go get published!) and collating (finally) some new fics.

Oooh! One more thing, let me tell you manifesting works! I wrote down a few months ago, when I was heart broken (heart been broke so many timessss I I ...) asking/begging God for a new man. I said Lord send me a man who loves nature, will show me that social media is rubbish and help me find my true purpose in this life. And won't the Lord do it, I got a message from an artistic soul ... Mr Big Dick energy he self, wow this man is everything I wanted and MOORORRREEE whew! He doesn't go on his phone a whole bunch, is an artist, got shmoney okay and so kind. Anything I say he'll be like "wow heart eyes amazing I love u snooker doodle best sewer in the land make me a cloth from ur craftmenship" and I'll be like ... sir let me get down on these KNNEEESSS ah!

Then I did a ghetto thing and separated that manifestation from manifestation for a guy who was really into BDSM. God said ... u confuse me so here have two very different men and PICK! I'm telling you be specific when asking for something from whomever / whatever you ask from because they'll give it to you in however form you ask.

This other guy, freak! The most freak of freaks in the land of freaks I just sit there and think ... u r nasty SIRIRIRIRIRIRI! I'm in love with bof of them ugh ... I am looking away in shame ... can I just blend them into one?

Anyway, time to start this essay finally.

Learning to love and be happy with what I have is going to be hard but it must be done. I am being honest and it hurts to not just say "yeah im free" nope I am not so I must cleanse now. Again I wish you all the happiness and safety in the world.

Take care of yourself and your loved ones.

To see how it goes follow me on twitter goddess_venusss I follow back and im tryna make some internet international friends.

Ps. Yes ... I would still let Rhaegar spit in my mouth (that man is a DIVINENNENEN being in my head he can do no wrong, ever!)

:PPPPPPPPP


	28. Twenty-Eight

**Triangle**

**Northern Party**

She awoke to the sounds of chattering, metal falling onto metal and birds singing around the forest trees. Arianne could not help but remember Winterfell, with the banners around her reminding her of the home that once was.

She sat up, groaning in discomfort. The wooden cage she was put in was big enough for her to sit up in, and outstretch her legs, only in the slightest. Beside her sat an untouched tray of cold broth, water and dry bread. Arianne pushed that away, crossing her legs. It was not lost on her that many of those who passed by her had been watching, even those who were sitting down were watching. She wasn’t sure what exactly, she wasn’t that interesting.

Her eyes locked with Ethan Glover, the son of a bannerman, the red-haired boy averted his eyes. She huffed, there was no one she recognised enough to plead for her release. The tent in front of her rustled, and Brandon stepped out, gazing down at Arianne. He didn’t say anything and simply went about his day. After a few moments a girl left the tent, tightening the belt on her dress.

“ _Olivia_?” Arianne called out in shock. What were the chances that the woman who had been her maid at Harrenhal was now ... well she was ... Brandon’s bed warmer?

The girl’s head snapped towards Arianne and her eyes widened, the colour from her face draining. Olivia looked like she had seen a ghost. She had heard Brandon’s voice the day before, proclaiming of having the Queen in a cage, but she had chosen to stay in the tent and refused to believe it. She went by the name Hilly now, and the fact that Arianne had remembered her name flattered Oliva.

Olivia brushed her skirts down, sent an apologetic look towards Arianne, and followed after Brandon like a lost puppy. Arianne sighed, taking the stale bread and biting into it. It was rock hard, so she placed it back onto the tray and placed her hand on her stomach.

 _Sorry Baelor,_ she thought to herself, worried for her unborn son more than anything. Brandon wouldn’t be as cruel as he was letting out to be, would he?

After an entire day of watching the Northerner’s go about their day, Arianne grew thirsty, and reached for the cup of water. It tasted odd, but she drank it still, not realising how thirsty she had become.

“Is our food not good enough for you, your grace?” It was Lyanna’s voice. Arianne looked up at the girl towering over the cage.

Arianne put her cup down, “it was stale.”

“Right, unlike the freshly cooked ones in the Keep,” she sat down next to Arianne, realising how badly her joke had come out. The only thing that separated them now was the wooden cage. Arianne was unsure of how Lyanna wanted her to respond, so she merely blinked at her. Lyanna sighed, “Brandon wishes to kill Rhaegar, and plans to do so very soon.”

“He’d never get close enough,” Arianne scoffed, knowing full well those loyal to Rhaegar would never let him die without a fight.

Lyanna’s grey eyes looked in Arianne’s, as if to say _don’t speak too soon._ “He means to draw him out, alone. A bargain. Come and collect you, then he will offer a trial by combat, one on one.”

“So, end it now and let me out!” Arianne whispered, wrapping her hand around the wooden cage and pleading to Lyanna.

“I can’t,” Lyanna responded, her eyes welling up. She swallowed the lump that had grown on her throat. “He’s coming, Rhaegar. With his party, I’m sure you know who your men are.”

“What am I supposed to do with this information Lyanna!?” Arianne blurted, angered that the girl who had once been her sister, was now her close cousin by marriage, was taunting her. Was she to write a raven to Rhaegar and send it to him? Was she to visit him in his dreams?

“I-I just wanted to help.”

“Lyanna?”

She stood from the floor and shook off her pants. “Yes?” It was Robert. He had called her from their tent and was wondering what she was doing sat next to the hostage.

“What’re you doing?”

“She’s with child Robert, I am a woman. I can have compassion,” Lyanna responded, her voice harsh as she spoke to her husband. Robert looked between them and returned to their tent. “Honestly,” Lyanna muttered, waiting until the tent flap had closed. “Look, just. Just let Rhaegar know to refuse a one on one fight with Brandon.” She nodded once and marched away from Arianne.

_Tell Rhaegar to refuse combat. Okay, that’s simple enough. Brandon-_

Her repetitive thoughts were interrupted by Brandon, who tapped onto the cage with his foot. A maid slipped her hand into the cage, taking out the bowl of broth, bread and empty cup. She then replaced it with a new steaming bowl of broth, one that took a tedious amount of time to place into the cage, some of it spilling onto the floor. She added bread and a pouch of water.

“Eat.” Brandon instructed her, crouching down to speak to her. “We don’t want the _King_ to think we’re mistreating you now do we?”

Arianne glared up at him, kicking the food away. Perhaps it was premature, but she wanted to show Brandon how angry she was with him. He was deeply mistaken if he believed she’d roll over and obey. The broth spilled; coating Brandon’s leather boots dark brown. He chuckled, standing up and shaking his foot.

“Are you going to kill me?” Arianne asked him, backing away to the other end of the cage.

There was a rustle behind her, and she felt someone cling onto a cluster of her hair. She then heard a _snip_. Roose moved from behind her and handed Brandon the cut hair. The entire length of her had been cut, and she reached back. The spot where it had been was now bare. She had never cut her hair, so it was long enough for Rhaegar to know it was Arianne’s.

Brandon swayed the cluster, brushing it gently with his hand and giving it back to Roose. “Send it to him.”

“Are you going to kill me Brandon!?” Arianne repeated, her hair the last of her priorities at the moment. Rhaegar had Tywin by his side to keep him calm, she wasn’t worried. Or so she told herself.

“No, of course I’m not going to kill you Arianne,” Brandon responded. “But I will kill your husband,” he looked down at her stomach, “and eventually every last Targaryen I lay my eyes on.” She covered her stomach with her hand quickly, there was no chance he’d be touching any of her children. He raised a brow, “I know the twins are at Sunspear, that is where I will go first. I might take you with me, give Roose a Southern wedding. He deserves it after all his hard work,” Brandon chuckled lightly.

“Brandon,” she tried to sit so she got a better look at him, “you have time to call this off. You have time to _speak_ with Rhaegar. He is forgiving, he knows mercy-,”

“Mercy?” Brandon scoffed, “he cut the hand of my wife’s cousin as a response to a message. His – your family killed my father. You killed my father! Am I to thank the Targaryen’s for the slight?”

“Rhaegar didn’t kill fa-.”

“Don’t you dare!” He opened the latch to the cage door, dragging her out by her arm. “Don’t you dare call _my_ father your own. You are the daughter of a Mad King.”

Arianne tried to free herself from his grip, but her body was slowly giving up on her. The lack of food, comfort and Baelor in her stomach had worn her out. “Let me go Brandon.”

“Or what, you’ll hide behind your brother?”

Arianne spat in his face; a tool she was finding very useful as of late. Brandon flinched back, wiping the spit from his cheek. They stood in silence, dark grey eyes staring into purple ones. _Oh, gods._ Arianne thought to herself. “You are angry, not at Rhaegar, but because of Rhaegar.” She had figured him out. Arianne let out a deranged laugh, unable to believe Brandon.

“What?” Brandon asked her, his hand wrapped around her arm tightly.

“Starks, quick tempered, slow minded.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You are angry because I married Rhaegar, you are angry Rhaegar is provided the one thing you never got. And Brandon Stark always gets his way, isn’t that right?”

Brandon froze at her words; he pushed her back into the cage and closed the door behind her. “Even in imprisonment you are full of yourself.” That was not why he was here. He was here to avenge his father. He was here to take the Targaryen’s from the Throne. He was here to give the North what it always wanted. Perhaps Arianne was just a small side note to it, he could not deny that.

Arianne shook her head, laying down on the floor. “I will pray Rhaegar guts you like the animal you are.” She was truly tired of it now, Brandon was not to be reasoned with, nor was she. “Enjoy the last days of life you have.”

Brandon ignored her words, his bed warmer, Hilly as he had known her as, or her true name, Oliva, scurried towards him once she had located the one man, she had latched onto from the Riverlands. Brandon tried hard to forget Arianne’s words, there was no way Rhaegar would better him in skill and strength. He’d kill him. He’d kill his whole family. And then the North would know peace.

“Hello, you,” Brandon smiled, reaching over to pull Hilly into a kiss.

Arianne ignored them, waiting until the tent flap closed behind them to get comfortable. Unable to ignore the sounds of chatter that came from around the camp, and moaning that came from Brandon’s tent, she was awake all day. As she had promised Brandon, praying Rhaegar killed him. Preferably tomorrow.

...

**Kingswood**

Tywin pulled a long cluster of hair from the envelope, his face turning sour as he did so. He placed the dark hair onto the table, growing uncomfortable as the council stared at it.

“Well, at least it’s not her head,” Oberyn sighed, “so, she is with them. What do we do now?” Rhaegar moved from the other end of the table, picking up the hair from the table and gazing longingly at it. “Now is not the time to be a depressed man Rhaegar, we must move quickly.”

They were all stood around a makeshift table, a map at the centre, and the newly arrived envelope on top of it.

“He asks for an open meeting with you, your grace,” Tywin said, reading the letter that had accompanied the hair. “ _You and I. life as a champion.”_

Oberyn stared at Tywin suspiciously. The day before, when they had left Kingslanding, Tywin had tried convincing Rhaegar of leaving a few men behind. And Oberyn, being the good friend, he was, suggested they leave not only Lannister, but men from all vessels and bannermen, to which Rhaegar agreed.

 _“Just in case Brandon tries to pull you from your feet, and Tywin chooses the winning side,”_ Oberyn had told Rhaegar once they had been alone. Rhaegar, who never could think wrong of his allies shrugged it off.

“That sounds like a trap,” Arthur piped up from beside Rhaegar, “a very badly laid out trap, Rhaegar don’t even consider it.”

“That is my wife he holds with him. My wife and babe,” Rhaegar reminded them. He had not slept for two nights, waiting for the sun to rise so they could restart their travels to meet Brandon. They were close now. Close enough for Brandon to send a hundred ravens an hour, mocking Rhaegar. “I will go,” there was protests around him, “we search the area before meeting. If he is planning an ambush, a messenger can run back and inform you. Does that sound fair?”

“By which you will already be _dead_ ,” Oberyn tutted. “No. You cannot meet him. The quicker the battle is finished, the quicker she is freed, the quicker this all ends for all of us.”

“The Prince is right, your grace,” Tywin said, “you cannot go. Wait until battle, you can meet him there.” 

There was no way in seven hells he’d miss the opportunity at getting back Arianne and winning the war with little blood spilt. So, he nodded to them, allowing them to leave the tent thinking he’d follow their counsel.

When Rhaegar was sure those who would try and stop him were sleeping, he wrote a letter to Brandon;

_I will meet you by the Kingswood’s western exit. Bring my wife._

_Rhaegar._

He folded the letter and attached it to a raven.

Now all he had to do was wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter hasn't been edited at all. It's actually (I promise now) the last one I will be posting for a while. feeling very burnt out. Enjoy :)


	29. Twenty-Nine

**Redemption**

**Kingswood**

They had travelled not too far from where the Northern Party lay camp, Brandon coming from his tent in the early morning and pulling Arianne from her imprisonment. He could not believe Rhaegar had agreed to his terms and acted as if here was an excited child on his name day.

Arianne was helped onto his horse, with Brandon jumping up and sitting behind her. He was much gentler than Roose – perhaps he was not becoming as violent as he let on. Before they left, she noticed men reading their swords and bodies for battle. Armour being tightened, chainmail held in the hands of squires, swords far too big for some to be carrying being seethed into their sides.

Now they waited by a flowing river that led from the Kingsroad, all the way down into the nearby villages.

Arianne felt herself grow nervous with anticipation.

_What was taking Rhaegar so long?_

If they had agreed to meet alone, then he would honour his words. He was never one to lie. But those around him might have suggested it. No, he wouldn't do that. Not Rhaegar.

She moved around the horses saddle uncomfortably, with her hands tied together, she couldn't move that much without being in even more discomfort.

Brandon waited patiently. His eyes darting from here to there under his wolf shaped helm as he awaited Rhaegar's arrival. He wore his armour of silver, adorned with the sigil of his house, with no fancy work on them.

The horse under them neighed, noticing another horse approaching them.

_Rhaegar._

He his black armour with ruby dragons at its middle and a dark helm that had wings, like that of a baby dragon. As he neared them, he lifted his helm from his head. His hair was a dark silver as he had not washed it in many days, his skin was lightly tan, but his beauty never left him.

Arianne wanted to scream out to him, yell at him. She wanted to jump from Brandon's arms and run to him. But she could not.

Brandon tightened his grip around her waist, removing his own helm as Rhaegar neared them and came to a stop. "You came." Brandon called out, almost shocked that the dragon King was in front of him.

Rhaegar ignored Brandon's words, smiling softly to Arianne. "Has he hurt you?" He asked her, wanting so very much to jump from his horse, pull her down, and take her back home.

His wife shook her head. She looked tired but did not have any visible signs of abuse on her. _Tell Rhaegar to refuse combat._ Lyanna's words rung in her ears. "They are getting ready for battle!" Arianne called out to him. There would be time for professions of love later, when this was all over. "Refuse his call for combat." Brandon covered her mouth; he should've gagged her before they came.

Rhaegar raised a brow at Brandon, his horse sensing the tension that its rider held and moving back a little. "My wife is not a common woman Lord Stark. That is your Queen you gag." He said, angered by the man's movements.

"King Brandon Stark," Brandon corrected him. "Are we to fight, or are we to keep talking like a pair of fishers?"

Arianne shook her head at Rhaegar, Brandon's hand still on her mouth. "No!" Her words came out muffled.

"I will come back for you," Rhaegar nodded to Arianne, "today."

Brandon scoffed, riding closer to Rhaegar to give him a better look at Arianne. They stood close to each other atop their horses, with Rhaegar's eyes and delicate features reassuring Arianne. She trusted him, she trusted him enough. He let Brandon take a few turns around him, it was all for show, he did not mind it – his wife would be back in his hands before too long.

"Then I will see you in battle," Brandon said, sensing Rhaegar would not let up. He watched as their figures retreated back into the woods and waited for a while. He knew Arianne enough to heed her words, and so he quickly returned back to his camp.

When they returned to the campsite, Arianne felt a cramp in her stomach as she was set down from the horse. She considered telling Brandon, but his words of killing every single Targaryen had scared her, so she huffed and puffed from inside her cage uncomfortably. The party cleared out, leaving her alone in the campsite with all but one guard. Her hands still bound, and now her back throbbing with pain.

She knew those pains all too well to ignore them, so Arianne tried to untie herself by her teeth. But it was no use. The guard was no help either, she knew he'd either run to inform Brandon or try and kill the newborn himself. She stopped her movements when she heard the hooves of a horse coming towards the campsite. The chants had singing of the soldiers had already left ear shot, so who was it?

"Be gone," it was Ned. Arianne felt her eyes close in thanks, she could plead to him for help. Ned would see reason, as he always saw reason. The guard nodded and left them, and Ned came down from his horse.

"Ned," Arianne started, her words coming out in a pained moan. "My babe," she repeated those words until Ned had cut her from her binds and helped her from the cage.

"Go west," he said, handing her a leather pouch and a dagger. "As far west as west can go. Do you hear me?" Ned pulled her close, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. He had contemplated giving her a horse, but that would just mean trouble for her – and his absence in battle would not go missed for long.

"Is he still alive?" Arianne asked him before they parted. "Is Rhaegar still alive?"

He remembered watching Rhaegar in battle, "yes. Now go!"

She didn't need to be told twice. Arianne gathered her skirts and ran in the direction Ned had pointed her towards. Away from the wretched campsite she'd been held prisoner, away from the cries of battle – and eventually so far into the woods that all that could be heard was the chirping of birds and her own pained cries. So, she sat down by a tree and lifted her dress to her knees.

 _Breathe in, push, breathe out –_ she remembered the words of the woman who had helped her to deliver Visenya and Valerion. Though Baelor seemed much more interested in coming to the world quicker, as she felt his head tear her.

She cried out once more, _mother, maiden, bring me this child in safety,_ Arianne placed her hands by Baelor's head, awaiting the babe's arrival. She did not want him to fall first onto the leafy ground beneath her. A few pushes later, he had arrived. Baelor. It was a boy, just as Maester Pycelle and Rhaegar had predicated. She took the dagger from beside her and cut the crying babes cord, washing his eyes out with a little water from the pouch Ned had given her. She couldn't even focus on her second birth, but rather, as if she had done it all her life, pulled the cord from inside her and felt a rush of blood and a sack leave her body.

Arianne sighed in joy and calm, hugging Baelor tightly to her chest. "Hello Warrior Prince," she smiled, feeling hot tears stream down her face. Baelor wailed back at her, his cries were loud and low-pitched. Now that she had gotten a better look at him, she noticed the babe's hair and dark eyes. He was her, only he had one strand of black hair, but his eyes were his mothers. The exact copy of her nose, the dimple chin, to add to his beauty he had two dimples, one for each cheek. Arianne smiled once more, feeding him his first feed to quieten him down. She knew he must have been cold, so she cut a sleeve from her arm and placed him inside. He fit snugly, moving around in the material as if it were made for him.

Baelor, born in battle.

"How many stories and songs will papa write about you, hmm?" She whispered, Baelor squirmed in response. He already hated songs just as his mother had.

... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited and lmao I'm such a liar. I really can't keep myself from posting these chapters. I just want to SHARREE!


	30. Thirty

**Fire and Blood**

**Kingswood**

Oberyn had seen flashes of Rhaegar's armour run past him. He had seen the skilled fighters that were the Kingsguard, he was unsure of whom exactly they were, cutting down men like they were a slice of pie. But as of recently, he also saw men, their men, falling to the floor with feathered arrows in their bodies.

They fell in the tens around him, like flies around hot candles. Oberyn watched intently, though it was hard when screaming men were aiming their swords, axes and at one-point _hammers_ at you, he found the culprit. Lyanna Stark, now Baratheon, knelt by a hidden shrub, aiming her arrow at any man she did not recognise as her own. Oberyn broke his way free from the thick of battle, from the stench of blood, and sweat, and piss and vomit, making a break for the girl.

Lyanna noticed him, drawing her arrow to him. Oberyn weaved, knowing all too well a moving target was one not many had a chance of getting. She released her arrow, but it missed him by a hair. Lyanna stood from the ground in a hurry, moving to take the sword next to her. But Oberyn wasn't known to be quick and agile in battle for nothing, he took his spear, the very one that had killed many men before her and threw it at her. Lyanna cried out as the spear met with her right leg. She dropped her sword and clutched on to her thigh in pain.

Oberyn neared her, pulling the spear from her leg, and she screamed out, withering under him. Before he could kill her though, he heard the deep shout of Rhaegar. He ran back to where he had been, where the voice of Rhaegar had been. Robert Baratheon and Brandon Stark swung their sword and hammer at him, two on one. Oberyn shot his spear once more, if not one Baratheon, the other would do.

It caught its target this time; Robert fell to the floor with a thump, his heavy hammer falling with him. Oberyn grunted, pulling the spear from Robert's neck and nodding to Rhaegar.

Brandon, who had watched Robert fall to the floor, ducked at Rhaegar's oncoming blow, leaving the King for a short moment. He knew if he did not kill him now, they'd surly lose – it looked that way anyway. The archers that had been hidden had stopped shooting, and he wondered what had happened to them.

He saw Ned from the corner of his eyes, running back onto the field.

 _Where had he been_? He thought to himself, watching as his brother swung his sword at a Lannister solider. It didn't take long for Brandon to figure him out. Ned was always one to have a forgiving and merciful heart.

"In a moment!" Brandon shouted to the first man who he could see, the scaled armour giving away Hoster Tully, "tell them we surrender." Hoster wanted to say something to him, but the young man was already gone.

He pushed past those who stood in his way, unsure of who he was stabbing and swinging at, but knowing he needed to find out exactly what Ned had been up to.

...

"Arianne!" She heard Brandon's voice ringing throughout the forest, it would near her and then his voice would disappear.

Arianne stood up, Baelor still in her hands. She was panicking now, crying as she looked for a place to hide him. By a large tree sat a bed of lilies, the prefect hiding spot. She did a quick prayer; _no animals nor men should harm him_. And placed him gently down and then taking off the ring that Rhaegar had given her when they were still courting, she put it in his little hand.

"Stay quiet dragon," she whispered to him, covering his body lightly with fallen leaves.

Baelor did as he was told, blinking up at his mother and not registering her departure. Now all he could see was the big blue sky above.

"Arianne!" Brandon's calls became frantic, and she made a break for it, running towards him. There was no chance in seven hells he'd find Baelor, and if she had to offer herself than she would.

Her running ceased when she saw Brandon, standing in front of him as a doe would when a hunter had found her. Brandon threw his helm to the ground, took her by her neck and made for the camp.

As he dragged her back to the campsite, Arianne realised she hadn't gotten that far into the woods. It wasn't as if running whilst with child and in labour was something that one could do easily. Brandon pushed her to the floor, onto her knees.

"Brandon please," Arianne begun, she did not want to die. Not like this. Not at the hands of the boy she'd grown up with.

"Shut up!" He cried out, his voice breaking as he did so. In all his anger, in all the promises he had made to Rhaegar, he had forgotten how much he had adored her. But that didn't matter now, she was the reason for his father's death. She was the reason for all things black in his world, and that was unforgivable. No matter how beautiful one was.

They waited in that position for an hour, Brandon wondering if Hoster had not taken his words and surrendered. But he had, judging by the sounds of a small party approaching them.

"Lord Stark," Tywin's voice called out, he was the first to arrive, followed by Arthur Dayne, Oberyn Martell, Rhaegar and two other men Brandon did not recognise. They wore Tyrell armour, so he accounted they must have been Tyrell sons or cousins.

"No, no body talks but me now," Brandon said, pulling Arianne from her knees to her feet and holding his sword to her throat.

"You have lost Lord Stark, put the sword down before you make things even worse for yourself," Tywin called out.

Rhaegar stepped forward, and Arianne pushed into the sword, wanting to feel herself in Rhaegar's hands once more. He held his hands up to Brandon, "have reason Lord Stark and put down the sword."

"Or _what_?" Brandon asked him.

Arianne, feeling Brandon was not in the mood for negotiations or leniency called out Rhaegar's name. The silver haired man's eyes moved to her own, "he is west, by a bed of lilies. Baelor."

"I killed him, your last dragon. I cut his from mouth to stomach," Brandon said, pulling her closer by her waist.

She shook her head, Rhaegar, who wanted to express his joy but couldn't, nodded. Understanding her words. "He is holding your ring and has hair as white as snow with one black streak."

"Will you go look for my son?" He asked Julian and Otto, they nodded remembering her words from earlier. Bed of lilies, west, and took off.

"Stop speaking as if you will die," it was Oberyn's voice, he stopped her from continuing her words. "The sword down, now Stark."

"Your brother, he lives," Rhaegar said, he had remembered the young Stark sitting on the floor with his hands bound behind his back – as the other lords had.

Brandon loosened his grip, "and Lyanna?" Silence was his response, Oberyn unsure of how to tell him that he had found the girl dead, having lost too much blood. That was the only answer he needed, "then I shall take a sister for a sister. Our last truce. What do you say, your grace?"

"I say put down the sword. I know mercy, not as my father knew mercy. I do not want fighting while I rule. Winterfell will be the Stark's and you will take the Black. Think of your brother and _son_."

Little Rickon. His mind knew no reason now though and so he pulled her closer. "Did you enjoy riding your sister dragon?" Rhaegar did not respond, looking away from Brandon's roaming hands. He now noticed the blood around her dress and her missing sleeve. She had fought to keep Baelor alive. "Did you enjoy taking her from behind, like a true-,"

"That is enough Stark!" Oberyn called, gripping onto his spear.

"Throw it and I will shield myself with her body."

They stood in silence for a short while, those with Rhaegar trying to find a way to bring Arianne from Brandon's arms, or find a way to take him down without hurting her.

Brandon let out a shaky breath and she felt it hit the back of her neck.

"Please, Brandon. We have all had enough of this. That is my wife, your foster sister. Let it end now," Rhaegar finally called out. His heart was aching, his mind was tired, and all he wanted – no matter the consequences – was to have Arianne by his side.

"I will end it for you," Brandon said, having already made up his mind. He turned Arianne around, kissing her lips once. "I will see you in whichever afterlife we end up in." There was a ringing in her ears, and Arianne blinked, her body too tired to form anymore words nor tears. She heard the muffled pleas of Rhaegar, the shouts of the brother she knew for a little while, Arthur, the demands of Tywin and Oberyn but it was far too late to speak with Brandon. It became too late the moment his father had been slaughtered. All he sought was revenge. He took his sword, just as his ward father, Lord Dustin, had taught him and pressed it into her back.

He had always said a bloody sword was a thing to behold, and here one lay in front of him. Her body dropped to his feet, and she squirmed in pain.

Rhaegar stood opposite it, hands on his head. He could not even comprehend his next movements. Was he to hold her? No that wasn't even a thing he'd do before killing Brandon. He felt himself run, fly almost, to Brandon and bring the bigger man down. He punched him so many times, his face became unrecognisable. His fist met Brandon's face so many times it hurt him, it hurt Rhaegar. Brandon was unresponsive by the time Arthur had pulled him from Brandon's dead body.

"Rhae-," Arianne's soft voice came from beside them, unable to lift her head she mustered the strength to call him. Rhaegar went to her, knees bent as he turned her to her back and held her in his arms. Arianne felt the tears now, falling from her face into her hair and ears. Her eyes met his for the last time, she couldn't speak, letting the peace of blackness take her.

Rhaegar's had hovered over her face, nervous and shaking. He left marks of red blood all over it. He muttered a string of nos. "We have a Maester. Someone call a Maester!" She was already dead, and when he pressed his lips to hers, just as he had done all those times before, they were unresponsive. He felt all he could now was cry. He did not care if he was in the company of seasoned warriors, Rhaegar had earnt the wails and tears that left his body.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So very unedited, I'm going for a walk now as we're only out for an hour [quarantine things :( ] and will edit this book in Dragon's Den, because baby ... whose gonna edit 70 chapters. :/ Apologies.


	31. Thirty-One

**Reparations**

** Kingslanding **

"I do not enjoy war, nor did I seek it. My reign began with a rebellion, and I have shown you all that I am more than capable of leading with a steady hand and head. But now, I must show mercy and grace – as well as justice. Repayment for your heartache and loss I cannot repay, as you cannot repay mine. A Kingdom cannot only have a warrior as King," Rhaegar began, standing tall by the Iron Throne. His children, Aegon, Rhaenys, Visenya, Valerion and Baelor next to him. The younger ones in the hands of maids and wet nurses, those who could stand, standing. Elia stood a few paces behind him, not where Arianne would stand, no that spot was left empty in her honour.

In front of him stood hundreds of people, packed into the Throne Room. Families of both sides, each coming to either be told their punishments or be rewarded for their loyalty.

He saw fit to announce his punishments first.

"Stannis Baratheon," the tall man stepped forward, "you are to be sent to the Wall for your rising against the crown and aid to your brother throughout the rebellion. Your brother, Renly Baratheon, will be kept here in Kingslanding – whereby he will train with our best Knights to become a Kingsguard when he is ready." Rhaegar would never forget the pain that the Baratheon name had brought to his house by supporting the Stark's, so he wanted those who defied him to know what it felt to anger him. "Your nephew and the once heir to the Stormlands, Jon Baratheon, will live here in Kingslanding."

"Hoster Tully," the aging man stepped forward, sniffing proudly and placing his hands on his belt. He was prepared to have the Riverlands taken from him, as the Baratheon's had the Stormlands stripped of them not too long ago. "Considering your age," there were snickers from the right side of the court, the side that had stayed loyal to Rhaegar. He held his hand up to silence them, "I cannot send you to the Wall."

"I am a warrior ... your grace," Hoster said, lifting his chin high. "I will die one if that is to be my punishment."

"No," Rhaegar smiled lightly, "Riverrun, the Riverlands are no longer yours. I strip you and your daughters of all titles. Your cousins, nieces and nephews shall no longer be addressed as Lord and Lady. Your daughter, Lysa Tully, is to have an education as a Septa." Hoster, who wanted to know what would happen to Catelyn, nodded. "Your heir, Edmure, is to be sent to Castle Black and squire for the men of the Black there. He will take the Black when he is of age." That, Hoster did not agree with.

"Jon Arryn," Hoster stepped back, and Lord Arryn stepped forward. It felt as if Rhaegar was calling for hours, but he was only getting started. "You betrayed your King, and for that I take the Eyrie from the Arryn's. You had a choice to answer the call of our house, and chose to side with the rebellion," Jon hung his head low, "you are to take the Black."

_Gods, the Lord Commander at Castle Black will sing when he hears of the new recruits coming his way._

"Eddard Stark," the room fell silent as Ned stepped forward, hands behind his back. His hair was unwashed, like that of many lords around him. They had been imprisoned while Rhaegar figured how to punish them, and unfortunately, bathing was not a luxury afforded to them. Ned pursed his lips, wanting to apologise for the death of Rhaegar's wife, but it was too late now.

He had tried to help her, but there was only so much he could've done under Brandon's watchful eye. Ned contemplated blurting out of his aid for the past Queen but thought against it. "Your grace."

"Your brother slaughtered my wife-," Rhaegar held his index finger up as he noticed Ned opening his mouth to object, "as if she were a lamb and he a shepherd." Ned felt hundreds upon hundreds of eyes fall on him, he felt ashamed, no, dirty. He had warned Brandon not to be hasty, warned him to think through his actions and now Brandon would not be the one to pay the consequences of those actions. "The Stark's were the leaders of a rebellion that could have ended had your brother heeded our words for peace once my father had passed. We all know he was not one to negotiate with, but I was. Your brother promised many things, to kill my children, to kill my wife – of that he succeeded, to kill me and end the Targaryen reign, to take the North back and went as far to name himself King. You are to take the Black with your brother. Catelyn Stark will be educated to become a Septa, like her sister. Your nephew ..." Rhaegar forgot the babe's name.

"Rickon Stark," Ned reminded him.

"Is to come to Kingslanding and ward here, whereby he will squire for me and my sons."

Ned nodded, there was nothing else left to say. "Your grace," his tongue got the best of him. "I was the one who freed Arianne."

"Begging doesn't suite you Stark," Julian hollered, he had been stood behind his aunt and cousin. There was light laughter around the room, followed by calls of agreement.

Rhaegar ignored them, stepping down from the monstrous Iron Throne. "Am I to thank you for freeing her knowing she could not even stand for three days?" Rhaegar asked him, silence falling back onto the room. He placed his pale hand on the young Stark's shoulder, "you were too late." Ned, in Rhaegar's eyes, was lucky to be alive. Tywin and Oberyn had both strongly suggested executing him as a message for what would be done to rebels, by Rhaegar disagreed.

He returned to his stance in front of the Throne, Visenya, who had watched the interaction, blinked at him innocently from her maids' arms.

He spoke a little more, taking time to read through lists of families and giving them punishments, he saw fit. Many stripped of lands and titles, like their first vassals, he had sent some first sons to the Wall and others to be wards at loyal households.

"Tywin Lannister, for your family's loyalty and your aid to the crown," Tywin felt a small smile grow on his lips. Everyone knew that those best rewarded were those who had aided not only financially but emotionally and strategically as well. And Tywin had paid his dues to Rhaegar, going as far to commit treason for him when the King was still alive by joining his secret council and keeping his men neutral until Rhaegar had taken the Throne. "I betroth Lady Cersei Lannister to my brother Viserys," he had contemplated betrothing Rhaenys to Tyrion, but stories of his deformities kept him from doing so. "You have supported house Targaryen throughout the rebellion and before, and for that I am grateful." Tywin nodded, pleased with the outcome, though he would have preferred Rhaegar himself took Cersei as a wife. "For your losses, I give gold twice over what you have lost." Cersei, who had been standing by her father and little brother smiled, she would not be separated from Jaime and be given the title of Princess, that would do very well for her.

"Mace Tyrell," the stout man stepped forward, "For your sacrifices made by House Tyrell and its vassals," Rhaegar nodded to Otto, "who offered their homes and villages, I promise repayment twice over to what you have lost," he pursed his lips, "I hear your wife has given birth to a daughter?"

Mace nodded, and Olenna smiled knowingly, "Margaery your grace, a sandy-haired beauty," Mace responded proudly, though it could be said the beauty had come from his wife.

"Well, I believe it is time our families united. My son and heir, Aegon, I offer to you as a match."

"And I accept," Mace smiled, stepping back into his place.

Elia and Dorne, who had been humiliated on a grand and public scale by Aerys, were given some of his best rewards and thanks. With his first children being returned to succession, as he had promised Oberyn, and with Elia back in Kingslanding, Rhaegar knew it was time to start rebuilding with the Martell's. "Oberyn Martell," Oberyn had been present at court in the absence of his brother, "I name you as my Hand. You have been a close friend and a trustworthy companion to me. I wish to have you by my side as I truly begin my rule," Oberyn smiled, Ellaria would enjoy the capital. "To the newborn, Prince Quentyn Martell, I promise my daughter Rhaenys." There, that would tie them closer together. Rhaegar had refused to remarry, so Elia becoming his Queen was not an option he had even considered.

Rhaenys, the babe with one blonde streak in her hair, perked at the sound of her name.

The High Septon, who had been hidden within the shadows to the hall shuffled closer to the Throne and to Rhaegar. He pulled from the hands of Arthur, the new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, his newly made sword. Ned, knowingly all too well that had once been the sword of his father and brother, Ice. The Valyrian steel greatsword had been an heirloom of his once-thriving house, and now it was grasped proudly by its new owner.

Rhaegar had named his new sword Rhaella, in light of his mother.

"Lord Gerold Grafton," Rhaegar began to call the lords who had stayed fiercely to the crown, "Lord Raymun Darry, Lord Jon Connington ... Lady Merida Whent," there were whispers around the court.

The four who had been called forward formed a line in front of Rhaegar, it had already been hinted to them that they would have new honours bestowed on their names and families, just not which ones exactly.

"Come forth Lord Gerold," the man stepped forward, bowing his head in front of Rhaegar. Rhaegar moved the sword from his left shoulder to his right as the High Septon uttered holy words. "I name Lord Gerold Grafton, Lord of the Eyrie, Ruler of the Vale, Lord of the Vale. From this day, until the end of your days – whereby the title will be passed to your sons."

"Lord Raymun Darry," the Darry's had sacrificed not only the lives of their men but the lives of three older sons with Raymun the last of four left. "I name Lord Raymun Darry, Lord of Riverrun, Ruler of Riverlands, Lord Paramount of the Trident. From this day, until the end of your days – whereby the title will be passed to your sons."

"Lord Jon Connington," Rhaegar's close friend stepped forward, smiling at his _silver prince, now King._ "I name Lord Jon Connington, Lord of Storm's End, rule of the Stormlands. Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. From this day, until the end of your days – whereby the title will be passed to your sons."

Merida was the last of the four left, gazing in a curious manner to Rhaegar. He had thought hard and long of who Winterfell would fall to. Unlike many other regions, none of the houses of the North had stayed loyal to the Targaryen name, marching to Brandon's call. For the atrocities committed to the Whent's at the hands of the Frey's, though it was not due to the war, Rhaegar felt it important to reward the house that had helped him in the first place. Without Lord Walter Whent, he wouldn't know that the lords of Westeros were just as unhappy as Rhaegar was with Aerys' rule. He was never one to oppose a female rule, and so he called, "I name Lady Merida Whent, Lady of Winterfell, ruler of the North. Lady Paramount of the North. Matron of the North. From this day, until the end of your days – whereby the title will be passed to your sons."

He announced a newly appointed small council, not too different from the one he had delegated during the war. His hand, Oberyn, the Master of Coin, Otto, the Master of Laws, Tywin, the Master of Ships, Julian – not before the young lord had sworn to end his drinking. He had no Master of Whispers, not wanting his court to be one of deception and lies – as his father's court had been. The Lord Commander was as noted, Arthur, and he was at peace with his council.

Those who had lost their ancestral seats had watched as Rhaegar had announced their new rulers, it was the final reprimand, public shame.

His sons, Valerion and Baelor would be sent to the Vale and Riverlands to ward and strength ties with the new houses. Merida's son, who Rhaegar had legitimised on Merida's request, was to ward at Riverrun with Lord Darry alongside Baelor. Many with young sons had half expected the promise of Visenya's hand to their son or another's, or even to her brothers.

There was still the matter of his three children, Valerion, Visenya and Baelor. No one dared to ask questions of why they were yet to be promised, and Rhaegar would not answer. The question sat on many minds, who would the last three children marry? He had no promised them to anyone as of yet, but those who knew Westeros knew he'd have to move fast.

But to Rhaegar, they were the dragons that Arianne and the gods had gifted him and dragons they would be. No marriage, lands, nor titles would keep them preoccupied.

Having no love left in him to share, not even to the most skilled and exotic whores that Oberyn had brought from Lys, he would have no woman for the rest of his life. His love had been buried with Arianne in the Sept of Baelor, it was in her crypt, in her stone face that smiled down at him. The crypt that he frequented many times a sennight, whispering of his days and of the children's growth.

As the children grew, Valerion was sent and Baelor were sent to their wardships. He tried to keep his dreams and thoughts consuming him, struggling to separate reality from the beauty he called slumber, where he would sit with Arianne for hours at Summerhall, singing to her – even in dreams, she detested it, laughing with her, hearing her whisper sweet nothings to him. His voice was reserved for her now, only singing and playing his harp in the privacy of his own rooms and dreams. He'd also see their children running around, and if the gods saw fit, they'd gift him the chance to see the beasts known as dragons flying above them.

When he wasn't dreaming, he was observing his young children, Aegon and Visenya, who would hide from their Maester's, Septa's, tutors and arms teachers for hours. No one knew where they went, but Rhaegar's mind told him they were developing something that he could not allow to develop. So, he had Aegon sent to the Free Cities for a broad education with trusted advisors and Kingsguard.

Just as was predicted, the prophecy and tale of dragons had taken over Rhaegar's mind and eventually that would be his own madness.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updated! : thank you forever to "Victoria" from Archive of Our Own who pointed out so many things wrong with the original. I really appreciated your critiques and completely agree with most of them. I hope this one makes more sense.
> 
> Unedited.
> 
> The End
> 
> Or is it?


	32. The End

Thank you to everyone who has been reading and read this fic. I truly hope you enjoyed it (just as well, the last chapter has been updated as "Victoria" a guest commented a few things wrong with the first one) and I just had to update it because their ideas were too good to miss - I credit most of the ideas in that chapter to her. 

I am writing a rewrite of sorts called Dragon's Den so keep an eye out for that if this was to your taste. 

As always  
love xx


	33. my bad

if you're notcing an update, it's because I completely forgot to upload chapter 19 which is now up. sorry


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